#i wanted to jump for joy the first time i got it

[la-patrona-magdalena]

Don´t Like Me! - prologue

Synopsis:

You always wanted your family to look at you, even just once. At least with a bit of the affection they gave to the portraits of your mother. Too bad that when they finally did, you were looking at the pages of a comic that showed the cruel future.

Inspired by the manhwa: no place for the Fake Princess

Warnings: English is not my first language, so I used a translator. Yandere content, neglect, abandonment, angst (?), allusions to death, original character (not the reader), allusions to torture. I try to keep the gender neutral, but in some places I may miss a feminine pronoun. If any warnings are missing here, please let me know.

You can read the fanfic in its original language (Spanish) on my AO3

Masterlist - Next chapter

(coming soon)

Prologue - a look at the disaster

You felt Alfred’s gentle gaze through the rearview mirror, while you smiled looking out the car window. It was a comfortable silence that you could only have with the butler, though it hurt a little that he was the only one in your whole family who gave you that kind of look... But it’s okay! You were on your way to find something new that might bring you closer to them. And you could already see the comic book store on the next block. You squeezed the wool plushie you had made in your crafts workshop with excitement. What kind of comic should you buy? The typical superhero ones? Or those that are extensions of unfinished stories? Should you ask Alfred about your brothers’ preferences? No, the last time you started a hobby based on your brothers’ tastes, you got overwhelmed quickly. You need to start at your own pace, and once you got used to it, you’d go for your brothers.

Your smile grows wider when Alfred parks in front of the store. You almost jump as you get out of the car.

—I promise I won’t take long! Wait for me here! —You give Alfred a small goodbye kiss on the cheek and run off toward the store, full of joy and holding your little wool purse in your hand.

---

After a small incident with the shopkeeper, you come back looking at your three new comics that you got for free. Alfred can’t help but smile a little at the irony that they’re Batman comics.

You settle into the backseat, watching Gotham’s streets through the window. You hoped these comics would help so that this time they’d be the ones to look at you the way you looked at them. Even if you didn’t expect much, you still had a bit of faith in your family. Too bad that hope would vanish the moment you looked at the pages inside the comics.

[anxiousalienwriter]

I think I'm out of my angst phase! Yay! And it's explicitly buddie! Double yay! :)

---

He's not sure how the urge came about.

Or well. He was in a nostalgic mood.

He had found the record while unpacking. He was pretty sure it used to be his dad's. Maybe his mom's. Either way, he remembers listening to the record after school. During dance practice. Doing homework. Goofing off with his sisters. He had loved the songs. He was always a big fan of them, something about their beat being fun to dance to.

Until the joy of dance was stripped away.

This record was one of many. A compilation of music from the 50s, 60s, and 70s. The classics, as his dad would say.

He couldn't say what compelled him to put the record on. Maybe it was the empty house. Chris was out with friends, Buck out with Maddie.

Maybe it was the flood of emotions that hit him as soon as he found the record. He didn't even remember grabbing it. The first time leaving Texas or this latest time. He's not entirely sure how it came to be in his possession. He's glad for it now, though.

He didn't actually expect to want to dance to it.

It starts slow. The music is quiet, low as it plays from the record player. Just some background music while he unpacks. Then his foot starts tapping. He turns it up. Then he's adding in hip sways as he moves from room to room, putting things in their designated place, mixing his things with Buck's. The volume goes up even louder.

He's not sure when he starts full-blown dancing around the house, laughing, smiling. He's not even unpacking anymore. The music is filling the house. Air guitar. Air drums. Classic ballroom dancing. Uncoordinated jumping. It's like when he first rediscovered dancing, but he lets himself indulge for longer.

He's never felt so free.

That's how Buck finds him. He hadn't even heard the door open.

He spins around, only to run right into Buck's solid chest. They both stumble, Buck grabbing onto Eddie's elbows to steady him. "Whoa, Eds. You good there?"

And Eddie would answer. He really would. But at that moment, the record flipped over to At Last by Etta James and well. That just seems like fate.

Who is he to deny fate?

So he just grins, holds out a hand, and asks, "Care to dance?"

Buck gives a slight laugh, face scrunched in confusion, "Uh, what?"

"Dancing, Buckley." Eddie grabs his hand, pulling him in. He places Buck's hands on his shoulders, moving his own hands to Buck's hips. They start with just swaying. "You have a good time with Maddie?"

Buck seems at a loss for words, hands flexing on Eddie's shoulders. His eyes flick everywhere around the room but at Eddie, as if he's unsure where it's appropriate to look. "Uh, yeah. Always do."

Eddie takes pity on him, chuckling under his breath as he starts to move Buck around the room. "You're pretty stiff. Might want to loosen up if you have any hope of keeping up."

That gets Buck. He never can resist a challenge. He looks Eddie in the eyes, indignation clear in his gaze. "You caught me off guard!"

"Uh huh." The record changed over to You Are Everything by the Stylistics. Eddie began moving them to the faster beat. "Then try to keep up."

He spun Buck out from him, only to spin him back in, catching his hand and pressing it to his chest. To Buck's credit, he only stumbles slightly. He glares at Eddie. "You're doing this on purpose."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He grins widely. This was the most fun he had had with dancing in... a long time. "Part of dancing well is having the right partner. The other part is feeling them." He squeezes Buck's hand where it's still resting against his chest. "Can you feel me, Buck?"

Eddie was fascinated by the blush that appeared on Buck's cheeks. "Eddie."

"Evan."

Buck's blush got worse, dampening the glare he was trying to keep up. "I didn't know you could dance."

"Oh, yeah." Dance With Me by Orleans. Eddie switched to match the pace of the song. "I love dancing, actually. Especially when I have the right partner." He winked at Buck. "Shame, I can't pick you up."

Buck's glare turned mischevious as he moved his hands to grasp Eddie around the waist. Effortlessly, he picked Eddie up, spun him, and dropped him back down. Eddie felt breathless, especially as Buck reversed their hold. One hand at Eddie's waist, the other holding his hand. Eddie fluttered his free hand before landing it on Buck's shoulder.

"Good thing I can pick you up, then."

From that point on, it became partly a competition, both trying to one up each other. Eddie had the clear advantage, actually being able to dance. Buck mostly relied on being able to fully pick up Eddie. This lasted for a few more songs. By the time it got to My Girl by the Temptations, they were both breathing hard, laughing into each other's shoulders.

They slowed to a sway. Eddie's face buried in Buck's shoulder, Buck's face hidden in Eddie's hair. Eddie could swear he felt Buck's lips move as if he were -

"Are you singing the lyrics?"

Eddie feels more than see Buck's shrug. "I like this song."

Eddie huffed a laugh, leaning away slightly, just enough to see Buck's face. He raises an eyebrow, crooked grin in place. "Thought you didn't care for singing."

Buck shrugs again, ducking his head slightly. "Guess it's like dancing. I just need the right partner."

And Eddie isn't planning on it. He really isn't. But Buck's cheeks are flushed. His eyes are bright. His curls are partly plastered against his forehead with sweat. And something about the Temptations as the background to it all?

Eddie's just a man. He's not strong enough for this.

So he doesn't fight it.

He lightly brushes Buck's curls off of his forehead and leans in, giving Buck enough time to pull away if he wants to. Buck's eyes are wide, but he doesn't.

Eddie gives him a soft smile right before their lips meet. And right there, in the middle of their living room, on a quiet afternoon.

Everything clicks into place.

[ilona2nerrie]

Mer JL au:

Hal: Gobiodon histrio.

(it’s a fish that can be multiple colours. If you want to find the one, I see google it with the term green behind it, and it has orange stipes. I’m honestly not fussed, whoever wants to decide Hal’s stripe colour just put it in the comments, first one wins. Unless it’s a joke one. I don’t want to wreck the vision for others just because he first comment is a joke. Either way, I like this foosh.)

Jason: Maroon Clownfish

(I think this one’s really pretty and would accurately show how Jason was before he died. This is before he died in my au, so yes. And the reason I’m adding a pic for Jason is because there is a normal type, but this one looks so cool, and Jason deserves the best. Idk if he’s going to be in this chapter, but when I reference this fish, it’s not the one you google, it’s this one. I read an article on it; it is the same species but mutated to look amazingly cool. if you cant tell, i like fish.)

Hullo, it’s me again! Here with a part four. Please read, enjoy, let me know if you need me to do anything, have fun, enjoy!

Every part I think I’m just going to try to add two more species of Mer, like I did in the first part. The first part will be linked under the people who asked to be tagged if you want to be tagged PM me.

Tagged:

@ancientdreams-in-a-modernland

@pettitneko

@random-generated-name

Part one linked: Clark finds himself a friend. Bruce finds himself a meal ticket.

Chapter Two: Clark almost gets caught. Bruce tries to communicate with him.

Part three linked: Bruce shows off his pup and Clark learns to communicate.

Enjoy the story!

----------------------------------------------------------

Clark was happy for days after that interaction. The league was confused about why he was so happy, but every time they brought it up, he just brushed it off, saying he was just in a good mood. He hadn’t seen Bruce since then, but he didn’t feel the need to worry about it anymore. He had gained at least a little trust. I mean, Bruce had let Clark talk to his pup. Progress!

Meanwhile Arthur was getting increasingly frustrated with this recent disaster. The trench. There had been spotting of trench monsters outside the trench much more frequent than normal, and it was getting disruptive. He was starting to think something was scaring them off. He turned to Clark to get his opinion but saw the other smiling at his JL pad again.

“Clark.” He tried, attempting to coax the other into helping him, it was almost as if Clark didn’t hear him as he just continued to look at his pad. “uh- excuse me Kent. Am I interrupting something?” he tried again, making a face.

Clark looked up, surprised for a second before clearing his throat. “apologies Arthur, uh, no, you’re not interrupting. Please, continue.”

Clark reluctantly put his pad down as he looked up to listen to the other drone on. Every time Clark glanced at his pad, he swore he was being watched, but when Hal and Barry were giggling to each other about something stupid at the other end of the hall, no one batted an eye.

His eyes met Dianas, and she smiled at him sympathetically, also a bit bored of the meeting. Nothing much had happened in a bit, and when Clark was allowed to leave, he practically jumped for joy. Well, I swam up for joy. (lmao puns). He had heard of a spotting of a black finned creature who was with a small Mer pup, and apparently another, smaller one. So, Clark knew Bruce was around and decided to go see him. That was his friend, the black scaled creature, not some dangerous one. Just Bruce.

When Clark got to the reef he swam around, dipping in and out of coral places. It took a while, but he saw Bruce sitting under a rather large piece, with dick swimming g around but close to him, staring at some vibrant fish. While a smaller, red-tailed Mer, clung to Bruce’s arm. Dick was 12, but this pup looked about 10. He had one arm wrapped around Bruce, and the other playing in the sand with a shell. Bruce watched his kids play, sighing as he tilted his head back.

When he met Clarks, for the first time he didn’t seem outright hostile. He just nodded tiredly and gestured Clark over. Clark happily swam to the other, before slowing down when he was in the closer vicinity. He was surprised when Bruce didn’t glare at him to go further away but just looked at him tiredly. When dick saw Clark, he grinned and swam over happily, plopping himself in front of the older mer. “hey Clark!” dick said, smiling. “My dads tired, you think you can help him. He says he doesn’t need any, but he’s lying. There are too many kids for him to handle- “

Dick, like nay child his age, just talked and didn’t really think about the consequence of his words. Clark chuckled, gaze shifting to a red-faced flustered Bruce, who gave his oldest son a look before flashing a reprimand about telling personal things. Dick stuck his tongue out at his dad. “but you need help! You even brought Jason here so Clark could take care of him while you rested.” He pouted. Bruce put his face in his hands.

“Jason huh?” Clark asked, looking at the pup. Who promptly shifted himself, so he was hidden behind his dad, poking his head out at Clark, who smiled at him. “wait- there are more of you?”

“Mhm.” Dick affirmed, “there’s me, Jason, Tim, Damian, Steph, Cass and duke. But at home. Dad finally got them to go to sleep. So, he’s here with me and jay.”

“Oh god that’s a lot of kids,” Clark muttered. He lowered his voice so Bruce, who was making sure Jason was ok, wouldn’t hear. “dose your dad has a partner?”

Dick grinned like he’d been waiting for that, shaking his head. “nope! Were all adopted. And I think he likes you.” Dick whisperer the last part.

Clark breathed a sigh of relief, glancing at Bruce before returning with his next question.

“How old are you all?”

“I’m 12, Jason’s 10, Steph Tim and Cass are 9, duke is seven and Damian is 2.” Disk stated, counting them off on his fingers best he could. Sensing Clarks next question, he added. “he found us all in need of a family and took us in. and he left the others at home because its dangerous out here and he needed a break. There fine though, there being looked after by a shark called Titus. And don’t worry about that, he’s friendly.”

Clark was going to ask but decided against it. instead deciding to continue to talk with dick and hang out with Bruce. Dick wasn’t joking about Bruce being tired, as he fell asleep mid conversation. Jason was concerned for his dad before dick stepped in and introduced him and Clark. Jason was wary, but eventually warmed up a little, holding Clark’s hand instead while he played in the sand. Bruce’s unconscious body lay on Clark’s shoulder as dick played trapping fish and Jason dug in the sand.

Clark stayed till late into the night, when Bruce woke up, got extremely flustered and then had to rush home to take care of his kids. He did flash at Clark though. Dick said he was thanking him. And Clark smiled to himself as they left. Jason even gave him the shell he was playing with. Clark loved this.

[enhanced-operatives-division]

I finally figured out how to draw her,,,

[crossbackpoke-check]

Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)

art kid luke hughes

[offthewall1979]

yoooooooooooooooo. Goin Places is really good

[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; three

wc ; 3745 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect

prologue, one, two, three, tbc..

Sometimes it feels like there is someone puppeteering you into the worst scenarios possible.

It started when finally, after days of contacting every single landlord in Gotham and Bludhaven, one kind old man reached back. The house he was willing to rent you wasn’t half bad either, certainly no Wayne Manor but a small apartment about a convenience store would suffice.

After regressing, you were stuck in a loop of tears and anger and whatever strange, uncomfortable feeling you got whenever you were reminded of your weird interaction with Dick.

But finally, light at the end of the rainbow! You could cry (of joy this time), but you’ve no time for tears. Not when you’re faced with a big, overpowering problem. Leaving the Manor.

Now, in the past, you could just get up and leave, however after your run-in with Damian and Dick, you’re apprehensive to leave your room. What if you’re ambushed again? By Tim? Or Jason? Or heaven forbid, Dick again? Terrifying! You don’t have time to dilly dally, not when Mr. Kim is waiting in your future home.

So, you’re very on edge, looking around every corner with apprehension, bracing yourself for anything and everything. When you finally reach the door, unharmed, you let out a deep sigh, only to hear a voice behind you.

“Master (Name).”

What now? You whip your head around, a sense of deja vu hitting you, oh, it’s just Alfred. You let out a sigh, glad it’s not Dick with his strange shenanigans. “Alfred, is everything alright?” You smile, out of everyone, Alfred is the one you love most, the one who cradled you close in those agonizingly lonely nights, when you’d call out for your mother, for your father, for anyone.

He was there.

“You’re heading out?” He asks, assessing you with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. A few days ago, Dick had informed him that you were acting strange, you had run away from your older brother. His mind raced, the implications of what that might mean has been weighing on the butler’s mind for days. It was uncharacteristic of you, up until about a week ago you would jump for joy if any of your family would glance at you.

But after that day, that day where you had skipped breakfast .. What changed? Why are you suddenly so uninterested in your family? It’s unnatural. Your whole life had always been dedicated to them, you’d do anything to be apart of them, to be seen. So why? When you finally had the chance to be centre stage, were you walking away? Something about your demeanour was off and he didn’t like it.

“Yes, I’ve–” You pause, should you tell Alfred? I’m going to move out and never speak to anyone from this house again! No, you’ll wait until you’ve secured a place before letting him know. You’re not prepared for that conversation. “I’m going to– for a walk.” The lie is stale on your tongue, you’ve never lied to Alfred, not besides petty ones to get out of trouble. But this feels different, a heavy knot tying in your shoulders as you watch the butler’s confused expression.

“Is that so? Because a few days ago, Master Dick–” You were out the door before he could finish his damn sentence. You are not in the mood to discuss Dick right now! It’s going to ruin your chipper mood.

The click of the door had Alfred’s eyes narrowing, his eyes trained on where you once stood. He believed that the small push he gave Bruce would be enough, but it’s just driving you further away. How troublesome, he doesn’t want for you to end up hurt.

“Wow! This is a really great place? And I get the first month free?” You are convinced whatever deity sent you back in time is responsible for the saint before you. The small, chubby old man who speaks to you in such a paternal voice it makes you want to cry.

“Of course, it’s no problem, I just need to speak to your guardian to agree on your emancipation, plus they’ll need to sign some consent forms.”

“What?” You blink dumbly, your heart momentarily stopping before the damn organ speeds up so quickly it could power a small village, you try to convey your thoughts but all you can manage is a few dumb noises. “Are– Are you sure?”

“Apologies, since you’re only sixteen – you must have a guardian’s consent, this is a legal rental after all,” he smiles apologetically, before adding, “if you want to live somewhere without your parent’s consent, it’ll have to be illegally – which can be dangerous, ‘specially for a youngling such as yourself.”

Oh, right. You’re sixteen. The fact slipped your mind once more, you’re so foolish. So damn foolish, nothing will ever be so easy, nothing in your life will ever be handed to you like this. “Right, I’ll– let you know.” You smile, your eyes scanning over the small apartment once more. It reminds you of the place you stayed with your mother, the small space encapsulating those memories you hold dear so perfectly that if you light a few ciggerattes and close your eyes, you'll go back in time.

“I’ll keep this off-sale for you, please let me know as soon as possible.” Mr. Kim, so nicely adds, his small face – wrinkled with age, softening at your disheartened expression. You so desperately want to beg for him to rethink, to make an exception, but you don't want to get him in trouble, not since he’s been so kind.

And so, with a heavy heart, you walk out, walking with effort since your feet don’t want to leave. Don’t want to leave a future that could be, that should’ve been. Ugh, how disgustingly sentimental.

You don’t feel like returning to the Manor, not yet. The air outside is nice, it’s nice to breathe in a taste of something other than the suffocating walls around you, even if it’s just some dingy back alley. It’s nice to see what could’ve been, that is until a large hand clamps down on your shoulder.

Oh, great. So the one time you leave the Manor you die again. Maybe you’ll regress to when you’re eleven next, you muse.

“What the hell are you doing around here?” You recognise that voice and immediately you don’t want to turn around. What is he doing out? During the day? You thought vigilantes only patrol during the lunar hours, so why? Your heart squeezes in your throat, desperate to claw its way out, to escape your pitiful body.

After a tense moment of silence, you turn around, there he stands. Red Hood, your older brother. Well, older brother is a stretch, you’ve never really interacted with him – much like the rest of your family. You were brought in when he was still Robin, but he died shortly after. A small, vengeful part of you blamed him for your neglect. That was until Bruce brought in Tim, and you watched bitterly how Tim was embraced immediately, he didn’t have to fight for any attention, he was accepted by everyone and you were forced to swallow the thought that it wasn't Jason's fault -- but your own.

When Jason was somehow brought back, you selfishly hoped you would be able to bond with him, that he’d be the one to look back at you, to get to your level and hold you close.

No such thing happened, the only time you saw him was when he was walking through the Manor to the Batcave, and even then, he gave you a bone-chilling glare. You didn’t think of him so optimistically after that. Now, with his hand clutching your shoulder, his expression covered by his menacing red helmet..

You’re ready to be shot 5 times again.

“I asked you a question.” He says, his hand tightening on your shoulder, you snap out of your stupor immediately, your fear morphing into frustration. You shove his hand off of you with more effort than you’re comfortable with, and even then you’re sure he’s the one who dropped his hand to not embarrass you any further.

“I’m allowed to go outside.” You huff, your nerves practically fighting against the restraints of your skin, a cold, overbearing feeling rushing over you. This was..– Everything was wrong, this is not how this is supposed to go, not at all.

“You were talking to Mr. Kim, why?” He asks bluntly, your heart stops beating for a moment, the only thing you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your brain trying to block this all out, trying to block out everything. “Actually, nevermind, I think I know why.”

You want to cry, why was this happening? You were so happy, so content. Why do you bump into them every time you leave your room, can’t you have one good day? Will you need to become a hermit? Will that get them off your back?

“I can drive you back to the Manor–”

“No, I’m fine.” You cut him off, your voice not masking any of your fear, it has Jason blinking under his mask. Why were you so on edge? What’s going on with you?

“I insist– Gotham isn’t safe for you to just be–..” He watches the downright terrified expression on your face before sighing and signalling for you to go, his stomach churns in an unfamiliar way as you scurry away.

Why were you so nervous? Could it be that you're scared of him?

That’s understandable, you’re not a vigilante, you’re just some average kid. But when he saw you walking alone, he detests himself for the way his heart swelled with happiness. In his Robin days, he loved watching the normalcy of your life, the way you would live free of any strings to the ghastly occupation he had.

He was scared to get closer, scared to shatter that illusion you had.

The fear amplified when he came back to life, he was relieved to see that you were still unaffiliated with Batman, but fuck, he was too cowardly to reach out, that day when you looked at him with gladness, he was hit with a paralysing fear of you getting too close, of you getting hurt. He replays the crushed expression that dawned your face like a damn broken stereo.

So when he saw you sulking about a few moments ago, he saw his chance to reach out, to get a taste of your normalcy, he took it, however selfish it may be.

“Whatever.” He grits, climbing up the roof to tail you, he’s content with watching from afar, for now.

The whole way back to the Manor felt like a fever dream, you can’t brush these oddities off as coincidences, why the hell did Red Hood approach you. Was he trying to pull a Damian? Was that a simple reminder of how pathetic you are? Why did he do that?!

Why was everyone acting so strangely?

The Manor offered you no comfort, it’s looming walls did nothing but remind you of your own shortcomings, you were afraid, you were perplexed but above all you were furious. Why now? When you’ve finally accepted your position in this family, why are they all turning their heads. Well damn them! You’re sick of this whole stupid charade, you won’t be that small child anymore, a child who knew only loneliness. You’re going to become your own person outside of the surname which has held you back for so long.

“We need to talk.” A voice calls out as you reach your room, what now? You’re sick of these damn conversations. You just want to move out, why is it so damn hard?

Oh, it’s Bruce again. Your lips press into a thin line as he stands before you, you can hear the soft humming running through the Manor walls. When you were younger, that sound brought you so much comfort, yet now it’s different. Like a warning.

“Talk? About what?” You try to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. You’re distinctly aware of the way his brows furrow at your pitiful expression. Oh hell, you hope this won’t be another walk down the Manor where you awkwardly fumble in silence.

You don’t say anything as he leads you away from your room, a sullen quilt draped over the Manor, a strange foreboding sense that something’s going to happen. Something bad. You’re utterly perplexed as your father guides you to a part of the Manor you’re somewhat familiar with.

As a child, you used to lurk around the corners of these very walls, watching your family, itching to reach out and join in but fearing ruining the delicate painting they created. Fearing rejection, the cold glares and sneers as they pushed you away. So you trailed silently, waiting, hoping that someone would look back, smile at you and maybe hold out their hand. But it only ever happened in your dreams, a pale illusion of a reality that should've been true.

“Where did you go?” He asks, his eyes boring onto you with such intensity you can distinctly feel the way your blood begins furiously to pump through your veins, why did he care? “Alfred said you went out.”

“I just wanted some fresh air.” You’re not sure why you’re lying, it’d be easier to tell Bruce that you went to go see a house, the consent forms are folded in your pocket, waiting for his signature. It’d be so simple, so easy. Just a dip of pen on paper and you’ll be out.

So why do you feel such dread? A dread unlike anything you’ve ever felt. When you were in that alley, bleeding out helplessly, even then this oppressive feeling, which tightens your ribcage, forcing your organs into a tight space until you couldn’t breathe, until you couldn’t comprehend if it was your heart pounding so heavily or your lungs, wasn't as scary.

“You’re only sixteen, you need to let someone know where you’re going.” His voice is so unbelievably despotic that it made your very core tremble with anxiety, with a looming sense of doom.

“It’s never been a problem before.” You mumble, your voice a lot quieter than you would’ve liked, your vocal chords burning with each word passing through it, your nerves invading each of your senses, as if warning you to stay quiet.

Bruce says nothing, and the moment the air grows stale you wish you could take your words back. You can see the way his brows crease, the way he looks at you as though you’re some sort of criminal and not his own flesh and blood, the soft humming in the walls has disappeared, left behind in your area of the Manor. Though it’s odd, when you would lurk around the Manor as a youthling, there was always some sort of background noise in this area, where everyone hung out. The silence unnerved you, another thing that’s changed, another thing you couldn’t have predicted.

“If you’re going out, make sure to let me know.” He sighs, his expression softening as he looks down at you with what you interpret as belittlement, a burning hot rage boils in your stomach, and once more, you’re hit with the knowledge this isn’t how things are supposed to go, Bruce isn’t supposed to care that you go out without telling anyone, he’s not supposed to care about you.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do!’ you want to say, you want to scream, to ask what rights he has to treat you like a child? How dare he? It makes your very being tremble with frustration, your hands clenching with barely contained anger.

But you don’t. Why? Is it the natural response from your mind? The fear of disappointing him? The fear that if you speak up, you’ll be kicked out and left to rot? Or perhaps it’s the fear of confrontation you gained through his negligence, the weakness he moulded. But still, you’re not sixteen anymore, not really. Mentally, you’re twenty-one, you’ve been through each stage of your life, and maybe, sure, the day you died, you were content for them to walk all over you in exchange for a single glance at your direction.

But you’ve died and come back (in time)! You shouldn’t let them walk all over you anymore, shouldn’t be content as an afterthought. So– you open your mouth and–

“What’s going on?” Another voice speaks out, great, because this is exactly what you needed, another clown to join the circus. Oh.

Is this a joke? Is the person responsible for your misfortune giggling at your despair, is it amusing to see you suffer?

Damian, Dick, Jason and now Tim.

Why is Tim walking up to you? Why is he looking at you? A rush of dread, a sensation you’ve grown familiar with in the past few days, washes over you. You’ve never had his eyes on you, never for so long. It’s unnerving. You thought the calculating look in Bruce and Damian’s eyes was scary, but the way Tim looks at you now? His eyes zeroed in on you? It has your insides melting into liquid, the urge to cover your face, to hide in the corner and bury your face in your knees is overwhelming.

You don’t want his eyes on you, you decide. Years of clawing at your own shortcomings, of desperately trying to appeal to him, to have him look back – you would do anything at that time for him to look at you the way he is now.

But now? You don’t like it, he wears a neutral expression, but the look in his eyes makes you feel vulnerable, like he’s picking you apart one by one, each twitch, each mannerism.

“It’s about what we talked about.” Bruce says, his tone completely natural, like he’s discussing the weather, you don’t know the specifics but you have a nagging feeling that you know what he’s speaking of.

“Ah. Really? You’re still on that?” Tim tuts, his head tilting ever so slightly as he studies you. Just as you’re about to ask what the fuck does he mean by that, he turns his attention to Bruce. “I told you, they can’t do anything without your consent, they’re 16.”

How dare they? How dare they talk as though you’re not here? This is disgusting, what loathsome, egotistical dickheads! Your hands itch, the anxiety in you speeding all over your body like a livewire, mixing with your anger to create an overwhelming feeling of terror.

What was the point of Bruce bringing you here? To mock you? Show you how great they have it? What you’ve been missing out on? Well, screw him. You need to get away before you lash out, you’re better than that. Better than this.

The pair watches as you walk away, your whole body tense. For a moment, there’s a prolonged silence which is broken by Tim. “Did we do something wrong?” He asks, genuinely confused by your little display.

When he came back from a particularly tough mission, the last thing he was expecting was everybody collectively freaking out. Bruce, Damian, even Dick were all tense, looking around each corner – searching for something, someone. 

It was weird for a multitude of reasons, firstly – Dick was supposed to be gone by now, his stay at the Manor was for a few days only. Why is he here? And secondly, nothing particularly stressful was happening in Gotham, so what was with the gloom and doom?

When Bruce sighed, telling him about your plans to move out, well, to say Tim was confused was an understatement. That did not deserve such a reaction, but then he really thought about it, and, if this is how they react to you threatening to leave..

If you were to actually step out that door, to alienate away from them, to discard your last name. His head begins to throb at the implications, he’s acutely aware of how selfish it is for him to wish to keep you around, to keep you in this Manor all to keep himself happy.

But then the thought that, really, he’s doing this for you! If you thought it was so easy to just get up and leave, that at sixteen you’d just be able to pack up and go. Well, with that stupidity, you wouldn’t survive outside, in Gotham no less. He was able to placate Bruce’s stressing, thankfully, because the man looked three minutes away from a heart attack.

You wouldn’t be able to go without Bruce’s permission, so long as they had that – you’d stay with them. But that’s what led him to seeking you out now, if you had ideas about leaving that meant you were unhappy.

He was hoping to talk to you, to ask if you wanted to hang out – that’s what you want, right? When he thinks of you, his mind conjures up the slightly annoying, slightly endearing child that you were. He’ll hang out with you, destroy those silly notions and everything will go back to how it was.

So why did you stomp off? That’s not how you’re supposed to act. That’s not how you are.

“I don’t think so.” Bruce replies to his earlier question, his eyes still trained on the spot in which you were. How could you walk off?

Why were you so off during that conversation? He couldn’t…– This belies everything Alfred had told him about you, it's left Bruce conflicted. He had hoped that by bringing you here, he could ask which room you liked best. But you walked off, why? Why do you deny his affection? He was worried when he heard you left, a small, vulnerable part of him was afraid that you wouldn’t come back, that you had left for good, slipped through his fingers before he could hold you close.

So, when he saw you walk in – oh, he was elated. He just wanted to convey his worries, but you seemed to have gotten the wrong idea. He really doesn’t want that, you don't need anymore reasons to leave.

He doesn’t want the terrified expression on your face, he wants that dazzled look you used to carry around, he wants you – not this restless part of you, but the real you.

He'll get it back, he's sure he will.

ugh i hate the misunderstanding trope i say as i write the misunderstanding trope

tag list (open, ask to be added) ;

@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs s @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things s @iimichie @buckturd @eloriis @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi @snailpebbles @fandomly-obsessed @kitkatkitmeow @the-holy-pigeon @sheep-from-rad @mei-simp

[eufezco]

LIKE THE FIRST TIME

it has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him.

logan x afab!reader (smut, angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter

it was a shitty place where you were living with logan. it was always dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it, it was noisy, because despite being in the middle of nowhere, the train tracks were very close to it, and it was the least home-like thing in the world. both of you were working your asses off to get out of there as soon as possible.

in your free time, you helped caliban with the housework and took care of old charles xavier while logan spent the whole day out, driving and having to deal with one of the things he hated most in the world, people.

he always came home late, tired, with his whole body aching. some nights you would fall asleep while waiting for him and even though logan asked you to do it, to not to wait up for him, most times you stayed up so just to make sure he arrived safely. you waited for him curled up in bed. when he was a minute late, your heart began to beat faster and you imagined the worst. but then he would come into the room, dragging his feet and with his head bowed down.

—how was your day?

logan grunted as he sat at the foot of your bed, you felt how the mattress sagged with his weight.

—did something happen?

you crawled to him and rested your chin on his shoulder. he let out a sigh of relief when your arms wrapped around his body and you hugged him from the back.

—just a tired fuckin' day, that's all.

you hummed, understanding. —well, now you are home so you can finally relax. would you like something to eat?

logan shook his head as he let it fall back and rest on your shoulder. he just wanted to stay like that a little longer with his body between your legs and his eyes closed. he placed one of his hands over yours resting on his stomach as you hugged him. one of his big hands was enough to cover both of yours.

—i've missed you, lo. i always miss you when you are away.

you placed a kiss on his neck. the first thing he did when he entered the house was to get rid of his shirt, keeping only the white tank top he was wearing underneath. his broad shoulders were at your disposal, his muscular arms and warm skin as well.

logan swallowed when he felt your lips on his neck. you noticed so you placed another kiss there.

—i miss you too. every second i spend away from you, i miss you.

you hummed, your heart gave a small jump of joy. while your love language was words of affirmation and you were always reminding him how much he was loved by you, logan was more of an act of service man. removing makeup from your face when you got home and were too tired to do it yourself, washing your hair and massaging your head when you showered, and leaving your coffee ready when he went to work earlier than you. hearing those words come out of logan's mouth meant the whole world.

your hands traveled down his abdomen until they reached the hem of his tshirt and easily slipped under the fabric. you felt his perfect abs under your fingertips and the hairs growing below his belly button as well. he took a deep breath, it had been so long since the last time he had allowed you to touch him like that.

you took your hands out of his tshirt and moved one of them to his neck to make logan turn his head resting on your shoulder and look at you. you connected your lips with his, his bushy beard pricked your face as you kissed him, but you didn't mind, it had been so long since you and logan had kissed so passionately that you could take it.

your tongue slipped past his lips and logan moaned, allowing his to go inside your mouth as well. you moved on the bed, putting one leg on each side of logan's body and sitting on his lap, all this without stopping kissing for a second. his hands now rested on your lower back, yours were on the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

his cock got rock hard the moment you sat on his thighs and you started to roll your hips timidly against his crotch. you felt his growing bulge rubbing against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. god, how bad you needed to feel him.

your hands slid down from his neck, caressing his entire torso, until they reached again the hem of his tshirt. you tried to pull the white tank top over his head, but logan stopped you. his lips parted from yours and he shook his head.

—it's okay. i want you, logan. i promise everything is fine.

you held his cheeks so he would look you in the eyes.

he was getting old, there was nothing left of the young and charming boy you met at charles' academy. his body had changed, his hair and beard were becoming whiter every day, and you were still young and full of light while he was fading away. yet you still loved and desired him, like the first day you craved his body. you found him just as hot, even hotter now, but you didn't want to force him to do something he wasn't going to enjoy.

you kissed him so he could stop worrying. —let me take care of you. i want you, lo, i need to feel you —.you mumbled against his lips. he let out a grunt when he felt you pressing your pussy harder on his bulge.

your hands traveled the same path down his chest one more time until you reached the edge of his tshirt again. you expected him to take your hands off him again but he not only allowed you to keep going but he also lifted his arms so you could pull the white tank top over his head.

—fuck —. you let out in a mix of moan and gasp. his body was breathtaking. your hands were quickly attached to his chest, hairy, hard under your touch, warm, with each of its muscles perfectly defined. abs, pecs, perfect broad and muscular shoulders, and wide strong arms, with veins running from his shoulder down his arms to the back of his hands. you ran your fingers along the thick scars that marked his body. —fuck, you're so hot.

with his hands on your back, logan gently pushed you to keep rubbing yourself against him and you moaned, he was harder if possible and you were so wet that you knew that your panties would be completely soaked. you kissed the crook of his neck while his fists clenched, clutching at the tshirt of his that you were wearing as your pajamas. logan fought against his instinct, against the animalistic way you were making him feel, but his grip became so tight that he ended up ripping the fabric.

—it was one of your favorite tshirts.

—don't care.

and logan kissed your lips as he ended up tearing the fabric completely and threw it on the floor. you grabbed the back of his head when his lips moved down your neck and collarbone. your nipples were already painfully hard when logan cupped one of your tits and wrapped his mouth around your sensitive bud.

all of a sudden you got up from his lap and he had to let your nipple go. he was worried about the way you had moved away from him, had he done something wrong?

now you were standing in the middle of the room, in front of him, only wearing your panties. your body was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever witnessed, with scars very similar to his, with all those things you hated about yourself. was that how you felt about him? if it had not been for the pain in his whole body he would have fallen off the bed on his knees in front of you.

he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes once you started swaying your hips from side to side while you slid your underwear down your legs. you laughed too, you felt stupid, but at least you had managed to make him smile. you two weren't the type to do those things, things were always more animalistic, more passionate, rougher. you walked towards him and leaned in to kiss him as your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.

—you're beautiful —. he whispered.

logan helped you to straddle him again. you held your body over his thanks to your knees on the bed. with one hand you grabbed his hard cock resting impatiently against his stomach. he gasped because of your firm grip and squeezed your hips when you lined it up against your aching entrance.

you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan. you never forgot how big he was, the thickness of his cock, the patch of hair on its base, and the veins running along his shaft, but you did forget about the way it stretched you open, about the sting that his dick going deeper inside you caused.

—careful —. logan mumbled against your lips.

you kept taking him, closing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip, hissing every time you took a centimeter more inside of you. you rested your forehead against his and whined when his cock finally bottomed you. —i need a moment.

logan nodded. one of your hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit while his hands lovingly caressed your back. it had been so long since you had sex. logan wouldn't let you touch him, he was disgusted by his own body and he was afraid that you would see him the way he saw himself. that's why that night you decided that you would make him feel so good that he would never doubt the way you felt about him or his body.

you started by slowly rolling your hips as your fingers worked on your clit. his jaw tightened while he felt your body moving with his whole cock inside. his big hands on your hips helped you to move, setting a pace and keeping you from going faster so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

—that's it, take your time —. he said. young logan wouldn't have given you a second to get used to it, he would have fucked you mercilessly and you would have loved every second of it. but now, his eyes were focused on where your bodies became one, enjoying how your pussy adjusted to his size thanks to your fingers rubbing your clit.

he moaned once you lifted your body just a little and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again. your cries and his moans mixed in your mouths. all his body jerked every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.

—you make me feel so good, logan. always have, fuck—. you purred in his ear. his hands, previously resting on your hips, slid all the way to your ass your hands and squeezed it. in those little details you could see how he was gaining confidence, which encouraged you to keep moving without changing your pace. it was slow, passionate, intense and intimate.

between moans and cries, you kept worshiping him, telling him how much you had missed feeling him inside you, how your fingers were no comparison to his cock, how you didn't want to share these moments with anyone other than him. there was no one like him. you didn't care about his scars, his moodiness, the gray of his hair, there would never be another one for you but logan, you did not want another one.

you were close, he could feel it in the way your walls were squeezing his cock and he knew he wouldn't last longer. logan wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you against his hard chest, and your fingers knotted into his hair. he groaned, your little jumps became irregular, your legs began to shake. logan hugged you tighter and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, getting a little choked cry from you.

—cum inside me, lo. fill me up, please, i need it. let me have it, please.

oh god, your words were driving him insane and after how well you had treated him, who was he to deny your wishes?

logan held your body down on his cock as he came, hugging you tighter against him. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin while your legs shook and your pussy clenched around him. it was too much. as he released himself inside you, his claws came out and trapped you between them and logan's body, you had no escape. he groaned when he felt the pain of the adamantium ripping the skin off his knuckles mixed with all the pleasure of cumming inside you.

—shit —. he immediately put the claws away when he realized. —i haven't hurt you, have i?

you shook your head, still coming down from your high. he exhaled with relief. once you had caught your breath, you straightened your back, still sitting on his lap and feeling his cock getting soft inside you. you brought his hands to the front.

—are you okay? that probably hurt —. you caressed his knuckles.

—felt too good to even think about it.

you smiled proudly and kissed him. when you broke away, he noticed the mark of his teeth on the skin of your shoulder. —'m so sorry, fuck.

—don't be. i wish you had bitten me harder.

he shook his head, keeping himself from laughing. —you're a freak.

[p1astr81]

just a prank - op81

in which: Lando has his friends over, and while his roommate is taking a shower, they decide to play a prank on her. Oscar is the one to come to her rescue.

pairing: Oscar Piastri x Lando’s roommate!reader

warnings: uni au, fluff, bullying lowkey, use of y/n, a little objectifying, my first fic on here so pls don’t be rude

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧

Y/N just got off work, and she desperately needed a shower.

Wanting to become a physiotherapist, she worked part-time at a private secondary school alongside the athletic trainer to make some money while she studied at uni. She was helping one of the football athletes. He’d sprained his ankle earlier in the season, and she was having him do a few exercises to rebuild his strength in that foot.

Long story short, three boys came in asking for her to tape up their knees. Before she could say anything, one of the boys “tripped” and spilled an entire can of Red Bull down the front of her. The nice football player offered his shirt to her, but she politely declined. She’d remained in the sticky clothes for the rest of the day. And as soon as she got home, she jumped in the shower.

Conveniently, her roommate, Lando Norris, forgot to tell her that he invited a bunch of his friends over. So a quarter of the way through her shower, the shared apartment became filled with boys.

“What is taking her so long? I have to piss,” Keegan complained. Lando just shrugged. “Oh!” Carlos exclaimed, like a lightbulb just went off in his head. “Let’s play a prank on her.” He suggested. “Like turn off the lights?” Max Fewtrell asked. “Or turn off her music.” Ginge grumbled. The pop music was blasting, filling the apartment with the vocals of various pop girls.

“I was thinking more like take her clothes,” Carlos said, a mischievous tone about his voice. Lando laughed. “Just say you want to see my roommate naked, mate.”

Oscar thought they should leave her be, but he wasn’t friends with everyone in the room. Only Lando. And he didn’t want to be labeled as a kill joy, so he stayed silent.

“It’s not just me, I think everyone wants a piece of her.” Carlos defended himself, glancing at the others in the room who hesitantly nodded along—well, except for Oscar. “You’ve got your share already, haven’t you?”

Lando shook his head. “Nope, she sees me as a ‘friend’.” He shared, unamused. The room winced at the fact he’d been friendzoned. Carlos got up from the couch, and headed down the hallway where the bathroom was located.

Y/N heard the door open and groaned. “Lando how many times do I have to tell you, you have to knock before coming in.” You scolded, but instead of the usual sassy response you’d receive, it was silence. The door clicked closed, and you peaked your head out, not noticing anything different immediately.

Carlos emerged from the hallway. “Got the clothes, and the towel.” He held up the items proudly. The group of them cheered. Something inside Oscar’s stomach twisted. These aren’t the people he thought he befriended.

after around fifteen minutes, the shower water turned off, and her music followed quickly after. “Lando!” She shouted but got no reply. So she stuck her head out of the door. “Lando! Give me my stuff back!” She demanded. This time, she was met with laughter. She quickly realized it wasn’t just Lando in the apartment. Panic set in.

Her roommate seeing her without clothes on was one thing. She could live with that embarrassment. He accidentally walked in on her changing once before. But by the sounds of it, there were at least five other people out there. The status of their phones—whether they would be recording or not—was completely unknown to her.

She shut the bathroom door, and began scheming. Her first thought was the shower curtains, but the rust had fused the clips of the cheap hangers together. She could use the hand towel, but that wouldn’t cover much. Toilet paper wasn’t an option, as there was so little left in the roll that it would help just about as much as the hand towel. She was left with pleading.

She stuck her head out the door again. “Lando, come on. Just give me a bath towel at least.” All she heard was laughter. “I’ll buy you take-away for a week.” She tried to bargain. Again, only laughter. She huffed. Knowing most of Lando’s friends were pining after her, she tried to bargain with, “I’ll kiss every one of you if you just give me a towel.” There was no laughter immediately, as if they were actually considering it. It gave her a little bit of hope. But it shattered moments later as they began to laugh again.

Seeing as bargaining didn’t work, she was reduced to begging. “Lando, please.” They only laughed harder, but their laughter was soon replaced with cries of disappointment. “Mate, don’t.” “Come one man don’t be a wet blanket.” “Dude she was gonna have to come out eventually.”

Her saving grace appeared at the end of the hallway, her towel in his hands. While the hallway was dimly lit, the floppy hair on his head couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else. Oscar was always her favorite out of all Lando’s friends.

He stopped in front of her. The bathroom light illuminated his face enough for her to see his small smile. “Thank you so much.” Her words came out with a sigh of gratitude. His smile widened as he nodded, his hair flopping along with his head.

She closed the door on him, and re-emerged seconds later with the towel wrapped about her. “Oscar,” she called to the man who was stood at the end of the hall. He turned to her with a raised brow as she caught up with him. She took his arm, passing the group of booing boys on the way to her bedroom.

She brought Oscar into her room and locked the door behind them. “Oh, no. I didn’t do that to get anything in return.” He quickly said, his eyes wide. He did not want her to feel like she was obligated to give him something.

“Trust me, I know.” She smiled. “You’ve always been my favorite out of all of Lando’s friends. You’re the only polite one.” She shared while digging through her dresser for new pajamas. Carlos was still holding her other ones hostage.

“Oh, uhm, thanks.” He scratched the back of his neck. He was looking everywhere except at her. “Turn around for me.” She requested, and he quickly listened.

His cheeks went red when he heard her towel drop. He wanted to take a peak. Like the other boys, he did think you were very attractive. But unlike the other boys would have, he didn’t try to steal a glance at you. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very good looking?” She asked.

“My grandma called me handsome once.” He shared. Her laughter rang out, the angelic sound floating right to his ears and making his head feel a little lighter. “Funny, good looking, and polite. It’s a wonder you haven’t been locked down yet.” She laughed again.

Oscar didn’t know what to say to that, so he just laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I’m probably making this really weird. I just wanted to thank you.” She apologized, her voice sincere. Oscar shook his head quickly. “It’s not weird, and you don’t need to thank me.” She heard in his voice how nervous he was, and smiled softly at him. “You can turn around now, by the way.” He did, and bit back a laugh at the set of hot-pink pug pajamas she’d put on. “Don’t laugh. They’re all I have clean.” She sighed.

“‘M not laughing.” He stated, though his voice was very clearly on the verge of breaking into hysterics. He couldn’t help it, and after a few seconds let out a little chuckle. “Yeah, alright. You can get back to your friends now. Sorry for keeping you.”

“Eh,” Oscar stammered. “I’m a bit afraid to go back out there, if I’m honest.” He confessed with a nervous glance toward the door. She shrugged. “You could stay here with me. I don’t mind. I was just going to watch a few episodes of Brooklyn 99 before going to sleep.”

He hesitated. “If you truly don’t mind.” She shook her head and scooted over to make room for him in the bed next to her.

Morning arrived, and when Oscar stretched his limbs, he found himself unable to move a great part of the left side of his body. Glancing down to investigate the problem, he found y/n at it’s source. He realized he never left her room last night, and as a result, they fell asleep together.

Slowly, he sunk back into the mattress, doing his best to keep her from waking. She looks inexplicably tranquil beside him. A small smile graced her lips as her head laid on his chest. An arm of hers was draped across his torso, and she had a leg laying cross his, disabling his ability to move them freely. He didn’t mind, though. In fact, he found himself at peace.

Despite his attempt at not disturbing her, she began to stir. She blinked repeatedly, trying to wake herself up. She let out a sigh before lifting her eyelids. She looked up at Oscar through her lashes. “Oh,” she muttered, lazily pulling herself away from him. “Sorry about that.” She apologized. Oscar found her groggy voice somewhat endearing. “I suppose you should get going, then.” She stood, stretching her arms toward the sky.

Oscar nodded. “Only if you let me take you out tonight.” He didn’t know where the confidence came from, and as soon as he got the words out, he began apologizing. “I’m so sorry. I’m not normally- I didn’t mean-“

“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.” She interrupted his fumbling, smiling warmly at him. “I’ll walk you out.”

On their way out, they passed Lando, who was toasting pop tarts. “Have a fun night?” He asked bitterly.

“Calm down, we didn’t fuck.” She rolled her eyes before adding, “If we did, you definitely would’ve heard.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waved her off. “All the guys aren’t too fond of you now.” He told Oscar, who shrugged. “They’re not the kind of blokes I care to be friends with, anyway.” Y/n smiled up at him.

“Oh!” She hummed, facing Lando. “and you’re going to have to cook your own food tonight. We’re going out.”

Lando rolled his eyes as the toaster popped from behind him.

[telephoniii]

Do you accept requests? I really loved the Really him thing and was wondering if you could do that but him reacting to reader being in a polyamorous relationship with Malleus and Leona? Srry id u not comfortable with it. I thought id ask cuz there are like no poly fics

I’ve actually been debating whether or not to do requests. That and I was thinking about making a masterlist! If people really want to request stuff/have a masterlist then lmk and I’d be down to do it. My verdict rn is; if you have an idea, feel free to send it. 🤷

Also! It's not exactly polyamorous, but I've got a longer fic in the works abt Leona and Malleus being love rivals for the reader. So if that interests you than stay tuned!!

Anyways, lets get to the fun and whimsical stuff!

I’m not poly myself so I’m really sorry if anything is misrepresented. I did decide to add more than just Malleus and Leona since I thought it’d be fun! I hope you enjoy :>

REALLY…HIM? (Poly Addition)

malleus and leona

Oh, you’re going to give this man a heart attack. Because what do you mean you’re dating the two most powerful yet reckless students of them all. Malleus and Leona? The two have a heated rivalry, do they not?!Do you have no concern for your safety?!?!The amount of sheer power these two hold together frighten this poor soul. He tells you to keep your distance if they start to fight. As a magicless student, you do NOT want to get involved if a duel were to break out. No, Trein wants you to RUN if that ever happens. Give him some time to get used to it. The sight of you next to Malleus and Leona in the hallways sends panic throughout his nervous system. After a month or so, Trein mellows out. He’ll start asking technical questions that you don’t have answers to. “If you were to marry them both, would all three of you be the rulers of Briars Valley?” ??? No clue, Professor. Can I get back to my test in peace now?

ace and deuce

He’s not surprised in the slightest. Trein always had an inkling that something was going on between you three. He just didn't want to believe it. Why? Because he doesn't like them. Well, scratch that. He doesn't like Ace. Is he supposed to jump for joy at the fact you’re dating the biggest slacker among all the first years? Trein has a habit of nit-picking them both and what they do. However, despite all the smack he talks, deep down he heavily approves of the relationship. He knows the two boys and doesn't doubt their loyalty to you. It's always been the three of you from the start and he views it as an unbreakable bond. So, even though he makes a face when you walk in with Deuce’s sports jacket and says you should take it off because it smells like sweat, he finds himself smiling when he spots you three sitting together at lunch just enjoying each others company. The way you all joke around and laugh together like you’re the only people in the world. He trusts them with your heart more than anyone else.

vil and rook

He actually thinks it's a pretty sweet relationship at first. You all balance each other out. Vil and Rook earned Trein’s seal of approval to date you from day one… and then Rook sends him a creepy letter thanking him for being supportive and— yep. Trein takes back that seal because what the hell. For the senders name on the letter, it was by both Rook and Vil, so Trein pulls both of them aside to talk about HIS boundaries. (He thought he didn't have to explicitly say, “Don’t stalk me before, during, or after school hours” but here we are) Vil is so confused the whole time. What could've possibly prompted this?? Then he remembers his boyfriend next to him who’s blissfully smiling and it all starts to make sense. With a sigh, Vil ends up apologizing to Trein for the whole ordeal and tells you about it as well. Rook gives you a kiss and promises to just watch Trein from afar. You don’t know how much better that is and it seems like Vil is thinking the same thing as he lets out a small groan. Trein is forever unnerved by your relationship— specifically because of Rook.

jamil and azul

Honey, are you being manipulated into this relationship? Which one of them is gaslighting you? Trein knows that they both have deceptive tendencies and is concerned. He’s not actively against it or anything, but he just keeps a close eye on the three of you. Jamil and Azul pick up on this and silently agree to each other that they want to prove themselves to Trein. Expect to get the ultimate royalty treatment everytime the Professor is around. One moment they’re playfully poking fun at you, the next they are cherishing the ground you walk on. (As they should) Unfortunately, it ends up having the opposite effect where Trein is even more suspicious and starts telling you to keep your distance from them. Jamil lets out a tired sigh an decides to do the mature thing by actually talking to Trein about their relationship with you. He drags Azul along with him and makes sure to keep him in check during the discussion. Jamil’s honesty takes Trein by surprise. Usually he wasn't one to make himself notable like that. Azul, reluctantly, ends up being honest about his feelings and relationship regarding you after Jamil. Afterward, Trein doesn’t say anything the next time he sees the three of you together. Instead, he just gives you a small nod and smile. Wow. Ultimate approval. Jamil and Azul high-five each other under the table.

[igorluvr]

‘LOVE AND LATTES

PAIRING: kang dae-ho x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: during the games, dae-ho promised to take you on a proper first date. now that you had both successfully made it out, he was going to keep his promise

CONTENT: fluff, literally the tiniest bit of angst, kinda corny, trauma, kissing on the first date smh, reader is implied to be black

AUTHORS NOTE: tryna get a lot of fics out for u guys bcs almost 400 likes on my first ??? omg yall r so sweet i swearrr, tysmm !!! ngl this might be kinda bad bcs im too tired to read over it …

word count: [2.5k]

IT’S been around 3 days since you got out of those hellish games, and you still can’t seem to process it. There was so much death, you felt guilty for taking the money, but it was your only chance at having a way out.

After surviving and splitting the money with a good handful of people, you found yourself dropped off in a dark alleyway. With only a large duffel bag at your side, you felt lost, unsure of where to go.

Eventually, you made your way to a bus station and caught a ride back to your apartment. It took a while to adjust to being in the real world again, a world where a gun wasn’t being held up to your head every hour of the day.

You remembered how you met the sweetest boy there. Kang Dae-ho. He was everything you could’ve asked for. The perfect man, met at a perfectly terrible time. Your mind flashed back to the end of mingle game.

‘I swear, when we get out of here I’m gonna take you on a real date. No guards, no games, just us two and the future ahead of us, okay?’ Dae-ho promised, cupping your face gently in his hands.

‘I love you with all of my heart, and I wanna see you when this is all over. We can move in with eachother and spend everyday in eachothers arms.’ He rambled with tears in his eyes, ‘I can’t lose you.’

Now in the present day, you wished you’d spend more time with him. You thought back to the last day in the games, when you wrote your number on his hand, hoping it wouldn’t be wiped off by the guards before he got home so you could live out the future you planned.

As the days passed, you lost hope in being able to reunite with your lover. Memories of him flashed through your mind. “Fuck, Dae-ho.” you whispered, “If only I had one more day with you..” and as if on cue, you heard your phone ring.

You stared for a couple seconds, confused as to who it could be. ‘It wouldn’t be Dae-ho, would it?’ With an ounce of hope left in your mind, you hurried and clicked the green answer button.

Silence lingered, then you heard a voice that made your heart explode.

“Hello?” Dae-ho’s wavering voice sounded “Is this you?”

You jumped up in joy, feeling a huge smile stretch across your face.

“Oh my God, Dae-ho!! It’s actually you!!” You exclaimed. “I missed you so much I thought we’d never talk again.”

A relieved sigh came from the other line, followed by a slight laugh. “I missed you more. How have you been? Where are you? Do you want me to come over?” he bombarded

“Okay woah, I can tell you missed me. I’m doing good, well better than I was a couple days ago, I’m at my house, and yes, I would love for you to come” You answered

The line went quiet for a moment, making you wonder if you’d lost the connection. Just as concern started to creep in, Dae-ho spoke again “Do you remember that promise I made before we got out?”

Of course you remember, his words have been playing on repeat in your mind like a record. Your heart skipped a beat as you thought of it actually coming true. You muttered a quick ‘mhm’ for him to continue.

“Tomorrow, meet me at the cafe down the street from that big market. I don’t know where you stay, so if it’s too far tell me and I’ll call you an uber.” he planned, “Dress up, even though I know you’ll look amazing in anything” You felt the butterflies in your stomach form as he carried on about what’ll happen the next day.

As the conversation came to a close and you got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking of any possible scenario that could happen tomorrow, good and bad.

‘What if my hair doesn’t cooperate?’

‘What if he doesn’t like how I look anymore?’

‘What if he’s setting me up?’

All these unlikely events start to run through your mind and it caused you to be overwhelmed with everything happening. When drifting off to sleep, you hope that everything turns out right.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You woke up to a constant ‘ding’ blaring through your room every 10 seconds. Immediately, you pressed the power button on your phone thinking maybe you’d accidentally set an alarm. When it didn’t subside after this, you groggily opened your phone to locate the noise.

There were about 15 notifications from Dae-ho, them all texting you as if you’d died in your sleep or something.

A pool of ‘are you awake?’ and ‘are you okay?’ flooded on your lock screen. Not wanting him to worry any further, you decided to text him back

‘goodmorninggg, i’m up now sorry 😭 im okay, how are you?’ You typed, half asleep.

Immediately, your message was read and the bubbles on the left side of the screen appeared.

‘I’m okay. Why do you sleep so late? You scared me.’ the message read. You hadn’t even realized the time. ‘2:26pm’ the clock read. You always had a bad habit of sleeping in but it had gotten unusually bad after getting back from the games.

You quickly apologized in your message, explaining your situation to which he swiftly understood. As the conversation progressed, you discussed your date. You were the type of person that needed to know every detail before doing something, especially something like this.

The both of you decided to meet there at 7pm, to give you time to get ready, and to dress up—but not too much. To be honest, you weren’t sure if you guys had the same definition of too much but you decided to put it aside for now.

Immediately after you guys finished discussing the details, you rushed to get ready. Even though you had 4 hours, it didn’t seem like nearly enough time to see him.

The closet was your first thought, since you basically lived by the rule of getting dressed first, doing hair, then putting on makeup. You scanned your closet for anything that would impress Dae-ho.

It took about 30 minutes alone to pick out an outfit. You decided on a long black dress you bought for your halloween costume that you never got the chance to wear, due to the pickup for the games occurring the same day. You picked out jewelry and a coat to go with it, since it was the beginning of winter.

After getting dressed, you gathered all your makeup supplies and rushed to the bathroom. Doing your makeup took longer than you wanted it to, but you wanted everything to be perfect since this was the first time you’d see him outside of life-or-death situations.

Every wing of eyeliner had to be just right, your lip gloss needed just the right amount of shine, everything had to reflect how much you cared.

The hair was the part you’d been dreading. You didn’t know if it was the detangling, or getting your part straight, but it gave you a headache just thinking about it.

After stalling for about 20 minutes, you finally built up the strength to start on your hair. Pinterest was your best friend for situations like this. You quickly opened the board labeled “hairstyles” and scrolled through them to find the perfect one.

You’d found this beautiful blown-out hairstyle that would look amazing with your outfit and makeup. Since you knew it would take a long time, you silently braced yourself, this wouldn’t be an easy task. You grabbed the blow dryer, flat iron, heat protectant, and got to work.

In about 2 hours, you had finally finished at 6:50pm. The cafe was about 7 minutes away from you, so you grabbed your stuff and walked out of the door.

The drive there was the worst part. Your stomach was doing somersaults. Even though you’d seen eachother at your literal worsts, it still felt so scary. With all these anxieties flashing through your mind, you managed to push them to the back and keep a confident facade.

As you pulled up, you sent a quick text stating your arrival. You fidgeted with the ends of your dress absentmindedly, spacing out and hoping for the best.

The ding of your phone sent shivers down your spine as a text popped up reading ‘Perfect. Come inside and turn to the left, I’m here.’

You felt like throwing up as you walked up to the entrance of the café. The strong smell of caffeine and pastries hit your nose as you searched for Dae-ho in the warm lights.

Turning left as he instructed, you were met with his beaming face, looking like he’d seen the most beautiful sunrise. His eyes widened in awe, and for a moment, he seemed frozen. The corners of his mouth curled up into an infectious smile, and you felt a rush of warmth, knowing that in this moment, you had completely captivated him.

Almost immediately, he jumped up and gave you an engulfing hug. You didn’t know if it was because you were used to the smell of blood being around him, but he smelled astonishingly good. It was like the best mixture of his natural scent and a very expensive cologne.

As he pulled back slightly, you noticed a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hands—delicate white lilies mixed with soft pink roses. “These are for you,” he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I thought it was only right for our first date.”

His hair was down to his neck, loose and messy, quite different from the bun you were used to seeing him in during the games. The collar of his shirt was casually unbuttoned, too. He looked effortlessly flawless.

“You look… wow. You’re so beautiful,” Dae-ho complimented, sending electric shocks through your veins. A rush of shyness met your face—he really thought of you like that?

“It’s so good to see you,” you said, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and delight. “You look amazing too. I mean, I always thought you were handsome, but just… wow.” You took the bouquet from him, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the flowers.

His laughter danced through the air, a sound that brought you so much peace and clarity. “I’m just glad I could pull myself together after… well, everything.” His smile faded a bit, and you felt the silent weight of shared trauma hovering between you.

“Let’s not think about that tonight ,” you suggested softly, taking a seat across from him. “We deserve a night where those horrible games are the last of our worries.”

“Agreed,” he said, leaning forward, his gaze intensifying. “Tonight is about us, and starting fresh,together.”

As you scanned the cafe, adorned with twinkling fairy lights and the faint piano covers playing in the background,you felt the tension from earlier gradually melt away. You could see other people laughing, having the time of their lives. It felt surreal to be part of such a normal scene after everything you had both endured.

The waitress came up to your table and you both ordered drinks; he went for a dark roast coffee while you chose for a sweet vanilla latte. “It’s nice to be able to actually enjoy these little things.” you ranted, “After everything, I never even thought we’d get here.”

Dae-ho's eyes sparkled with that familiar warmth. “I’ve thought about this moment every day since I got back,” he admitted. “Dreamt about sitting across from you in a place that feels safe, where we can just be us.”

That sentiment made your heart swell. You immersed yourself in his beautiful sunkissed eyes. “What do you want for us, Dae-ho?” You asked, knowing that his answer could make or break you.

He hesitated for a moment, his expression solemn. “I want to build a life with you, whatever that looks like. It could be road trips everyday and always having new experiences together, or a cozy apartment with a beautiful family and no worries. I want us to share everything, the good, the bad—everything.”

The sincerity behind his words wrapped around your heart like a warm, familiar blanket. “I want that too,” you said softly, placing your hand over his. The connection was electric, sending sweet shivers up your body.

As you sipped your drinks, Dae-ho leaned in closer, a serious look in his eyes. “You know, I’ve thought about you every single day since we got out. I really missed you.”

“Really? I missed you too,” you replied, voice full of veracity. “It’s been hard without you.”

He took a long pause, as if he was searching for the right words. “I never realized how much I wanted someone like you in my life. Just knowing you were out there somewhere gave me hope.”

You felt your heart pang at his words, you spent all your life searching for a love like this, it felt so good to finally have it. “It was the same for me too. Every time I felt like giving up I had to remind myself of us, and our future.”

A soft smile grew on his face. “I knew we’d find our way back to each other. I just didn’t know how much it would mean to finally be here, like this.”

“Me either,” you said softly. “I was nervous about tonight. I worried that maybe everything would feel different.” You thought back to earlier and how stupid you were for thinking he would see you differently. This is genuinely all you could've asked for.

Dae-ho shook his head with his eyebrows fixed in a furrow. “I was nervous too, but being with you feels right. I could really see us living a perfect life someday”

Your heart swelled with warmth. With him, you felt like you can just be yourself without any fear. He was genuinely your safe space.

“I promise we’ll stay connected. No matter how hard things get, we’ll keep fighting for each other.” You swore, knowing how your past relationships ended and wanting to break the cycle.

“Thank you, really. It means the world to me,” Dae-ho said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours. “I just want us to have a future, no matter how hard it'll be.”

“Yeah, me too,” you replied, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. “It’s comforting to have someone you know will be there for you, even on the darker days.”

His smile deepened, and for a moment, everything else faded. Just the two of you were in the room—focused on your shared promise. Nothing else mattered in this moment, you were ready to finally create a new beginning.

Silence in the air was broken as he finally spoke up, “I want to build a life where we support each other through any and everything." he grinned. “Even the small moments matter. Like cooking together and trying not to burn the kitchen down.”

You chuckled softly, picturing you both in the kitchen attempting to cook and leaving something in the oven too long. “I can definitely see that happening.”

“And if we accidentally set the place on fire, at least I’ll have an excuse to scoop you up and look all heroic while I rescue you.” he joked, his expression growing more playful

Laughter erupts from you and your eyes sprinkle with joy, causing Dae-ho to lean in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You know, I really missed your laugh. It makes everything feel so much brighter.”

“Really?” you asked, feeling warmth spread through your chest, “I missed yours too, it’s cute.”

The atmosphere felt light, almost euphoric, as you both relaxed into the comfort of eachother's presence. “Believe it or not, I was really so nervous for tonight,” Dae-ho admitted, his voice softening as he brushes his hair back behind his ear. “I thought I’d forget how to talk to you.”

“Trust me,” you said, voice tender, “I was nervous too. But I realized that after everything, who else could understand us like this?”

“Exactly,” He said before taking a sip of his coffee. “I feel like I can be myself around you, like I’ve never been able to with anyone else. It’s so freeing.”

“Freedom and love. Isn’t that what life’s really all about?” you said, your voice filled with hope and longing. You felt a warmth in your heart as you spoke, realizing that these two things were what you truly cherished.

As the conversation flowed, you exchanged stories, laughter, and memories—you shared dreams and fears, and slowly the nervousness slowly melted away.

“I can’t believe we made it out,” he said, his voice stern. “I can’t stop thinking about the others we lost… what they would’ve did if they made it out too.”

A brief silence enveloped the moment, both of you remembering the friends that didn’t make it, the faces of people who had shared brutal experiences with you.

“I think they’d want us to live, like really live,” you said firmly, squeezing his hand gently. “To make the most of us getting out, we owe it to them.” Dae-ho silently nodded, the thick atmosphere slowly leaving.

As the evening progressed, you lost track of time, so caught up in the warmth of shared smiles and nervous laughter. You could hardly believe this was the same man who stepped up and took initiative at every rough point during the games, willing to sacrifice himself for everyone's safety.

The night ended slowly as Dae-ho walked you outside to your car. The stars twinkled like tiny beacons in the dark sky above. “It feels different tonight, doesn’t it?” you said, glancing up at the stars. “Yeah, it really does,” he replied, his voice soft but full of warmth.

As you strolled along, flowers in hand, you both shared stories from before you met, your voices mixing with the soft hum of the night. Every smile and nervous chuckle made you feel a little lighter. You realized how much you valued this moment, this time together, away from the chaos and pain that had once consumed you both.

You exchanged glances, and you both understood something unspoken between you. “I never thought I could feel this way again,” you said, a hint of vulnerability in your voice. Dae-ho stepped closer, his gaze steady. “Neither did I. But I’m glad we’re here together.”

Finally, you paused beneath a big, ancient tree. Its branches stretched out like arms, swallowing you both in its shadow. Dae-ho turned to you, his eyes beaming in the starlight. His stare locked onto yours, and he took a step closer, face inches from yours.

"I wish this could last forever baby, I love you." he whispered, breath caressing your skin. Then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. You felt a spark of connection, and your heart skipped a beat as you kissed him back, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. The kiss deepened, and everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

As the kiss lingered, time itself seemed to stand still, the world around you fading into a beautiful blur. When you finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours, a mix of desperation and love radiating from him. "Whatever happens, I'll always be here" he said softly, his hand still cradling your face. You smiled, knowing that no matter where life took you, this memory would be a cherished part of your story, a promise of what could be.

[snowflop]

[angelyuji]

ford pines dating headcanons

18+!!! minors dni!!

cw // sexual content under the cut

cutie patootie

FIT AS FUCKKKKK

writes about you in his journal like first time he sees you, first date, every single thought about you? journaled!!

he wanted to ask you out but he was sooo nervous you would reject him, especially considering how young and pretty you are

he was scared you would laugh at him for trying

so he didn’t try :(

so when you showed up at the mystery shack and asked him out to dinner, he would’ve jumped for joy

“you-you’re asking me? on a date?” ford stares at you, mouth open. you tilt your head in confusion and ford almost melts. he clears his throat, “i-i would love to, (y/n). thank you.” ford blushes.

your first date was cute, he was so flustered and so nervous

i feel like he calls you by your name, sometimes by your last name, sometimes like ms/mr. last name. idk he’s silly like that

HE loves pet names tho, he lovessss pet names

when you call him love, baby, sweetheart, anythingggg he loves it

he especially loves when you call him sir like in any context

idk he’s silly like that :)

literally the sweetest man in the world

constantly thinking about you and talking about you

constantly creating new things/inventions for you

he would start writing up the mock-up of a project or an experiment and start thinking about you and then end up making something he thinks you’d like

sooo down bad for u dude, would give you the world if you asked

i feel like bill would find his love for you either fascinating or be so insanely jealous that you’ve got ford wrapped around your finger like that’s his man

imo the only solution is a threesome

WHAATTT WHO SAID THAT…. some of these artists draw bill so fine that i cant help it

he loves when you’re passionate about something! it doesn’t have to be mysteries and monsters, but just something that makes you yap (but he also loves when you listen to him talk, he’s more of a talker than a listener but he will listen to you)

yk that scene in those cliché romcoms… idk how to describe it so ill just put it into dialogue

‘gorgeous’ ford hums as you talk, the way your lips move, your expressions, everything hypnotizes him. ‘gorgeous’ he can’t help, but be enamored with you. you’re smart, kind, and passionate. “gorgeous” you stop and look at him.

“thank you?” you tilt your head at his words and his eyes went wide. he sputters as you laugh.

can have moments of smooth talk and flirting but the moment you reciprocate, he’s red in the face and stuttering

need him carnally, need him ways that even god will not allow me into heaven

switch!!!

he can do both i fear

he’s okay with you on top or him, definitely depends on his mood

like i said, FIT AS FUCK, whatever he’s been doing in that portal has treated him well

not insecure about his body more insecure about his lack of experience

he never talks about it about the stuff from before

he did a lot of research in positions, toys, and stuff like that

you had to tell him to calm down and take it slow

he’s more into giving pleasure than receiving

he wants you to feel good more than he wants to feel good

if you feel good, he feels good ykwim?

hes sooo pathetic tbh like begging, pleading, to eat you out like he wants it so bad

his glasses would fog up as you guys make out and he whips them off like sung-hoon does in business proposal

honestly that entire scene in business proposal?? ford.

hgnhhghghgngngnhgn i need him i feel ill

[holyblonded]

rattled | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen reader, barcelona femeni x teen!reader

summary: your mouth gets you into serious trouble

warnings: head injuries, implications of blood

notes: i don’t enjoy the way i wrote this or ended it that why it hadn’t been posted but y’all really wanted this one. the chances of this getting rewritten is extremely high 😭

There’s something about game days that gives you a rush like nothing else. Maybe it was your love for the game, the pure, unfiltered joy of stepping onto the pitch and knowing you were exactly where you belonged. Or maybe, just maybe, it was your love for talking shit.

As much as it might sound horrible, you couldn’t help it, there was something deeply satisfying about getting under an opponent’s skin. You loved watching the way their faces scrunched up in frustration, the way their movements got just a little more reckless, a little less focused. You didn’t always say much in your opinion, just enough. Just a glance, a smirk, a well-timed comment whispered under your breath as you walked past. You didn’t need to scream to make someone unravel. You just needed to smile at the right moment.

By the time you were in the locker room, boots laced, hair slicked back, headphones blasting, you were practically vibrating with energy. The speaker in the corner of the room was booming with Sexyy Red, the bass making the walls hum as you danced around in your compression shorts and undershirt, hyping up everyone in sight.

“Let’s gooooo!” you shouted, clapping your hands as you bounced from one side of the locker room to the other, pulling teammates into your orbit whether they liked it or not. “They don’t know what’s about to hit them today, I’m telling you right now!”

Jana was laughing, boots half-on, as you danced behind her and smacked her shoulder pads like drums. Mapi whistled at you as you slid on your socks and started freestyling some chaotic chant that made absolutely no sense but got everyone screaming anyway. The vibe was electric, loud, unhinged, exactly how you liked it.

You stood on the bench, arms wide, head thrown back as you yelled, “They gonna have to call the fire department after this game ‘cause I’m about to set this whole pitch on fire!”

The locker room exploded in laughter and cheers except for Ona, who was leaning against her cubby, arms crossed, trying not to smile.

“Your mouth is going to get you in trouble,” she said, shaking her head at you.

You jumped down and stuck your tongue out at her. “They gotta catch me first.”

Then you turned right back around, shouting over the music, “This is our house! Let’s make them regret ever showing up today!”

The nerves melted off you completely. You were in your element. You were ready to go to war. And win or lose, you were going to make damn sure they remembered your name.

The air was tense at Camp Nou, thick with anticipation even though the scoreboard read 5–1. You had two goals already— one in the first half, one just ten minutes into the second, but you were hunting for blood. The crowd buzzed with every touch you took, the energy crackling like static. Wolfsburg was playing dirty, and you were playing right into it.

They had two defenders on you now, crowding your space every time you got near the box. You were talking mad shit, your voice cutting through the drizzle and noise, lips curling into a smug grin. And not just in Spanish or English, you’d spent the last few weeks learning German just so you could spit it back at them on the pitch.

“Du bist zu langsam, komm schon!” You shouted as you flicked the ball through their legs. (You're too slow, come on)

You could feel how pissed they were getting, and it only fueled you more.

Across the pitch, Alexia cupped her hands around her mouth. “Estrella! Cool it!”

You waved her off without turning around. “I got this, mami!”

The whistle blew. Play resumed. You took the ball at midfield and spun out of a tackle like you were made of wind and fire. The defenders tried to hold you back, but you slipped through the cracks like you were born there. You could feel her chasing, nipping at your heels, but you kicked into another gear, outrunning her like she was standing still. One touch. Another. Back of the net. Hat-trick.

You slipped as you turned to celebrate, the wet grass catching you off-balance, sending you to the ground. You laughed to yourself, raising an arm as if to say did you see that?!—but before you could even move—

Crack. A blinding pain split your skull, and your vision went white. You didn’t even hear the roar of the crowd; everything was static. Everything stopped. The stadium went dead silent. You didn’t move.

Ona was the first to react— she sprinted to you, panic all over her face, with Jana right behind her. Patri and Lucy had already turned toward the Wolfsburg defender, fury etched across their faces. The ref stormed in, pulled a red card from her pocket like it burned her hand, and shoved it in the air.

Alexia stood frozen. Eyes wide. Mouth open.

Ingrid touched her shoulder. “Ale.”

Alexia blinked, stumbled forward, then sprinted.

She dropped to her knees beside you, her hands shaking. “Estrella, Estrella—” Her voice cracked.

You didn’t move. On the bench, the girls were already crying. Vicky’s hands were clasped over her mouth, tears streaking down her cheeks. Sydney was crying too, hugging her tight.

The medics arrived fast, sprinting across the pitch with the stretcher, but time had warped— every second felt too long. Ona and Jana were ushered away, both of them breaking down as they backed off, whispering to each other between choked sobs.

Up in the family box, Eli had her eyes squeezed shut like she was praying. Her lips moved, no sound escaping. Alba’s hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold her phone. “She’s okay. She’s strong. She’s okay,” she repeated over and over, as if saying it would make it true.

Olga sat stiffly, holding Eli’s hand in both of hers, her eyes closed, jaw clenched. She couldn’t look. She couldn’t breathe.

Soleil stood a few rows down in the stands, surrounded by friends who were trying to soothe her, but she couldn’t hear them. Her eyes were locked on you. Her chest felt like it was caving in. You never looked like that. You were always fire, always motion, always larger than life. And now, you were still. Too still.

The medics huddled. Pere ran down from the technical area. One of the medics shook their head. Silent tears ran down Vicky’s cheeks. Sydney covered her face.

Finally, slowly, you stirred. Your hand twitched. Your lips moved. Alexia exhaled like it hurt. She stayed beside you as they loaded you onto the stretcher, brushing the damp hair from your face. You didn’t open your eyes all the way, but you reached for her hand— and she held on like she’d never let go.

The crowd clapped. Loud. Raw. Hopeful. As they carried you off the pitch, Alexia walked beside the stretcher, hand in yours. Silent, but present. Your team watched. The world watched as you were, for once in your life, silent.

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Ten

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, strong language, kissing (!!!!!!!!), Christian Horner.

Notes — Ok. Prepare yourselves. This one is a rollercoaster of emotions. Spam me with your reactions. I NEED THEM.

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! — Peach x

2020

The garage exploded around her the moment Max crossed the line.

Cheers, shouts, a metallic clang as someone slapped a wrench onto the floor in sheer joy, but Amelia barely flinched. Her eyes stayed fixed on the screen, on the numbers and coloured bars and steady, glorious confirmation. They'd done it. Max had done it. No tire drop-off. No panic stops. Just pure strategy, cool driving, clean execution.

She didn’t smile. Not yet. Her hands twitched first.

Left-right stim. Thumb against knuckle. Then both hands up, fluttering briefly before she reached into her hoodie and pulled out her golf ball. It spun smoothly across her palm, rolling fast with muscle memory. The hum in her chest started to ease, just a little.

She felt electric. Not in a jump-up-and-scream way. Just charged. Lit up from the inside. She could’ve written a novel in equations with the adrenaline fizzing in her blood.

Max had asked, earlier. A quiet, sincere little question. “Will you come? If I win?”

She’d said yes. Of course she had. But now—

“Thought you might need a rescue.” Lando’s voice cut through the static in her brain.

She turned, and there he was. Still in his race suit, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, a faint flush on his cheeks. His smile was crooked, a little breathless. He’d jogged the whole way from the McLaren garage — she’d bet money on it.

For her.

Because weeks ago, nervous and hesitant, she’d asked, “When the Red Bull wins—when Max crosses the line first—will you come find me? Be there? Go with me?”

He’d remembered.

“You’re late,” she said automatically.

“I’m just in time,” he corrected, giving her an amused glare. “Podium celebrations start in three minutes. Come on.” He held out his hand for her to take, eyebrow raised, waiting. 

Amelia blinked at him. The deafening noise didn’t vanish, but it softened. Became a dull roar behind something steadier. She walked straight into his chest, hands curling around his fireproofs. He smelled like rubber and heat and gas. It itched her nose but she couldn’t tear herself away. 

“You okay?” he asked, a little lower now. Just for her.

She nodded. “I just— It got loud. Too loud, too fast.”

Lando’s eyes crinkled. “Alright. We’ll make it quiet again.”

She didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t matter. She stepped away. 

He held out his hand.

She hesitated. Just a second.

Then took it.

His fingers closed around hers, warm and solid, and for the first time since Max crossed the line, her shoulders dropped. Not all the way. But enough. “You’re lucky I like you,” she muttered as they walked, Lando carving a path through all of the gatherings of people. “Otherwise, I’d still be hiding behind the telemetry screen.”

Lando looked back at her and smirked. “You were hiding behind the telemetry screen?”

“Shut up.” She blushed. 

“God, I’ve missed you.”

Her steps faltered just slightly.

He noticed, and didn’t push it. Just gave her hand a gentle swing as they turned toward parc fermé.

Max was waiting. The champagne. The anthem. The high of a win that was already being written into the season’s story. And Amelia would be there for it; not because she had to be, but because she’d promised Max, and Lando had remembered.

— 

When her office door opened, Amelia glanced up from her laptop and stared.

Christian didn’t smile in greeting like he usually did. Instead, he walked to the table and laid a piece of paper flat in front of her.

It was a printout. A Kym Illman photo. Glossy. High quality. Nearly identical to the viral one from a year ago; Lando standing behind Amelia at the base of the podium. This time, Amelia was beaming up at Max, instead of last year’s Lewis. And Lando wasn’t watching the celebration; he was just smiling at her.

Amelia blinked at it. “Why are you holding a photo of me?”

Christian pulled out a chair and sat down, folding his hands over the table. “We need to have a conversation. About optics.”

She frowned. “Optics?”

“Perception, Amelia.”

“I know what the word means, Christian.” She frowned at him. 

He exhaled, slow. Like he was having to work hard to be patient. “People are starting to talk.” He told her. 

She nodded slowly. “They do that a lot.”

He exhaled. “About you, Amelia. About your relationship with Lando.”

Amelia paused, fingers hovering over her keyboard. She’d been avoiding Twitter all week after coming close to publicly arguing with a woman who tried to blame her daughter’s autism diagnosis on vaccines. She blinked, then looked up at Christian.

“…Are they saying something bad?”

“No. Not yet. But this is Red Bull. You know how the press is,” he said, laying a sheet of glossy photo paper on the desk in front of her. “You’re in the garage, you’re on the pit wall, and now there are photos of you with a McLaren driver, looking very… close.”

She looked down at it. The Kym Illman shot. Lando behind her, smiling at her. Her face lit up, eyes on Max on the podium. It was a nice photo.

“I’m allowed to date whoever I want,” she said plainly. “I read my contract very thoroughly.”

Christian’s jaw tightened. “Right. But it could get… complicated.”

“What part of it is complicated?” she asked, genuinely trying to understand.

He tapped the photo like it was evidence. “People might start questioning your objectivity. Your loyalty. Your role here.”

“My role is outlined in my contract. I help develop and refine trackside software, adjust data feedback loops, manage sim transitions, and review aero telemetry based on driver feedback. Lando doesn’t factor into any of that.” She tilted her head. “Also, my objectivity isn’t an issue. I’m autistic.”

That made Christian blink. Visibly recalculating. “That’s not what I meant—”

“You said it was about optics,” she cut in, voice even. “Which implies image over truth. So what you actually mean is that you’re worried I look emotionally compromised.”

Christian shifted, the corners of his mouth drawing into a tight line. “It’s not great optics, Amelia. One of our most valuable technical minds, publicly entangled with a rival driver—”

“Would you say the same if I were dating Max?”

He hesitated. “No. Max is part of the team.”

“Exactly.”

He sighed. “It’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because McLaren isn’t Red Bull.”

“Neither is Aston, but you let Dan sit in the garage like it’s his second home,” she pointed out, tone flat. “If you think I’m leaking secrets because I share a bed with someone who drives a slightly worse car, you’re not only insulting me, you’re misunderstanding the entire point of your own data security protocols.”

Christian’s expression hardened. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m asking you to consider how this looks.”

“I have considered it. It looks like I have a boyfriend who helps me regulate stress in high-intensity environments. Which, last I checked, makes me better at my job.”

“That’s not the image we’re trying to cultivate.”

Amelia narrowed her eyes slightly. “So Red Bull’s image is what, exactly? That autistic women can only be here if they’re single, quiet, and conveniently useful?”

That landed. His mouth opened. Then closed again.

She leaned back in her chair and frowned at him. “I’m here to work. And I do my job well. If you genuinely believe that my personal life is more threatening to your team than the fact your car only functions when Max is driving it, maybe you should consider redirecting your attention.”

Silence.

Christian stood up, smoothing his polo down. “We’ll talk again if it becomes a bigger problem.”

“It won’t.” She scrunched her nose faintly. “Why would it?”

He didn’t answer.

Just walked out. Left the photo behind.

Amelia stared at it a moment longer. Then she picked it up, folded it carefully into a small square, and tucked it into the front pocket of her skirt.

It was a nice photo.

— 

They were halfway through running back-to-back telemetry comparisons when Adrian broke the silence.

“Amelia,” he said, not looking up from the screen, “if Christian ever says anything to you that’s... out of line, I’d like you to tell me.”

Amelia blinked, her fingers pausing over the keyboard. “Out of line how?”

“You’ll know it if it happens,” Adrian said simply. He didn’t look over, just kept reviewing the data, as if he were talking about downforce, not interpersonal politics.

She tilted her head, trying to interpret. “He hasn’t said anything I can’t handle.”

“I know you can handle yourself.” This time he did glance at her, brief but steady. “But you shouldn’t always have to.”

Amelia frowned, processing that. “I’m not... bothered,” she said after a moment, carefully. “He’s patronising, but so are a lot of people. Especially when I’m being direct and they mistake it for rudeness.”

Adrian hummed. “Even so.”

There was a silence, save for the quiet click of her keyboard. She turned slightly in her chair. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

He considered. “Because I saw the photo. The one with Lando.”

“Everyone saw the photo,” she said flatly. “I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.”

“Neither do I. But Christian’s twitchy about image. And he’s not as subtle as he thinks.” Adrian sat back, finally meeting her eyes. “I just want you to know; if he crosses a line, I’d like to be in the loop.”

Amelia looked at him. There was no pity in his expression. Just steady intelligence, and a kind of quiet loyalty that made her chest feel tight for a second. “Wouldn’t telling you mean you’d have to act on it?” she asked. “And if you act on it, it becomes a problem. And if it becomes a problem, Max finds out.”

“Yes.” He agreed.

She frowned at him. “And if Max finds out, he’ll lose his mind.”

Adrian didn’t deny it. “He’d get distracted. Angry. It wouldn’t help his performance on track.”

Amelia leaned back in her chair, chewing her lip. “So… you’re saying that you want me to come to you. Not Max.”

“I want you to come to me because I can do something about it. Quietly.” His tone didn’t waver. “And because you deserve to have someone in your corner.”

She didn’t speak right away. But she gave a small, barely-there nod. “Alright.” Then, a beat later, “That doesn’t mean I won’t tell Max if he does something especially bad.”

Adrian gave a soft laugh under his breath. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

— 

Lando was stretched out sideways across Amelia’s hotel bed, scrolling absently through something on his phone while she stood at the open wardrobe, methodically hanging up the few blouses that needed to be steamed.

“He printed out a photo, by the way,” she mumbled offhandedly, not turning around. “The one from after Silverstone. Max’s win. From the podium.”

Lando didn’t look up from his phone. “Who did?”

“Christian.” She shrugged. 

That got his attention. His head lifted slightly. “What?” He frowned, eyebrows coming together, body tightening. 

She shrugged, still facing the wardrobe and trying to decide whether to line them up in order of colour or sleeve-length. “He came into my office on Tuesday. Told me that I should be mindful of ‘optics’ regarding my proximity to McLaren personnel. You.” 

There was a beat of silence. Then the faint creak of the bed as Lando sat up straighter. “He printed it out?” 

She laughed a little. “Yeah. With the good printer paper too. He was quite unhappy about it.” She finally turned, a faint line forming between her brows. “I don’t really understand why.”

Lando was frowning now, legs swinging off the side of the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me as soon as it happened?”

She blinked at him, a bit taken aback by his seemingly sudden change in mood. “Oh. Because it wasn’t a big deal?”

“It kind of is.” His voice was calm, but his jaw had tightened. “He’s… what? Trying to control your personal life? He doesn’t have the right to do that.”

Amelia tilted her head. “He didn’t tell me to stop being seen with you or anything. Just that it could ‘complicate’ things. But, of course, I reminded him that I’d read my contract and that he has no say in who I can and can’t date. It wasn’t a fight.” She assured him. 

Lando was pacing now, running a hand through his damp, curly hair. “Amelia. He shouldn't be trying to make you feel like you’re doing something wrong by being with me.”

“I don’t feel that way,” she told him plainly. “He hasn’t made me feel that way.” 

Lando looked at her, his brows drawn, still clearly wound up. “But he makes you uncomfortable.”

“No,” she denied. Then, more carefully, “I think that maybe he tried to, but I didn’t let him. And I don’t want you getting all weird and protective about it now, when it didn’t bother me in the first place.”

“I’m not being weird,” he said quickly, defensive. “I just… he shouldn’t be putting you in that position. And if he does it again, I’m saying something, yeah?”

“Why?” she asked, genuinely confused. “I already handled it.”

“Because I care about you,” he snapped, then softened immediately, closing the distance between them. “Because I don’t like knowing someone tried to make you feel bad, even for a second.”

She stared up at him, trying to reconcile the tension in his body with the warmth in his voice. “I didn’t feel bad,” she said, honest. “I just thought he was being mildly ridiculous. I’m not fragile, Lando.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I do. You’re the least fragile person I’ve ever met. I think that’s part of why I’m…” He paused, eyes flicking over her face. “...absolutely gone for you.”

That pulled her up short. Her mouth parted slightly, but no words came.

“I don’t want to fight about this,” he added gently. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t need protecting. But you’re going to have to let me care, even if it gets messy sometimes. I need that.”

Amelia considered him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded. “Okay,” she said simply. “But you’re not allowed to talk to Christian, or Max. I don’t want him getting distracted. He has a championship to win.”

Lando let out a soft, if a little bitter, laugh, stepping in closer. “Deal.”

There was a moment of quiet between them; close, but not touching. Then, with an almost imperceptible breath, Amelia leaned in just slightly. Just enough to tip the balance.

Lando closed the gap.

The kiss was careful, at first. Hesitant. Testing. But it deepened in a way that made the air shift between them, like a thread had pulled tight. His hand came up to cradle the side of her face, and she leaned into it without thinking, her fingers curling into the front of his shirt.

By the time they parted, she was a little dazed. “That was… unexpected,” she said.

“Good unexpected?” he asked, still breathless.

She blinked up at him, cheeks slightly pink. “Yeah. I think so.”

He smiled, dimples appearing. “Yeah. Me too, baby.”

— 

The Spanish sun was relentless, pressing down on the paddock in a way that was genuinely suffocating. Amelia stood under the Red Bull canopy, fingers tapping the edge of her tablet as she scrolled through sector analysis. Her eyes were focused, but her brain was running just a fraction slower than usual — the kind of slow that came from sleeping poorly despite Lando’s arms around her all night.

It wasn’t that she was upset. 

She just... couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. About the look on his face after, the softness in his voice when he’d called her baby, like it meant something heavy and good.

GP said something into her earpiece and she responded automatically, voice clipped and clear. She was good at slipping into focus. At pushing things into neat compartments. But the moment she caught sight of orange and black in her periphery, her heartrate jumped.

He hadn’t even done anything. He was just walking, helmet in one hand, race suit half-zipped, hair pushed back out of his face. The second his eyes met hers, her entire nervous system did something it had absolutely no business doing.

Lando gave her a grin. Casual, like nothing had changed. But his eyes lingered, the way they always did. Warm. Familiar. He didn’t stop walking, just brushed his fingers against hers as he passed, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it touch that sent a current straight to her spine.

“Focus, Amelia,” she muttered to herself, shaking it off.

Still. Her mouth tugged into a smile. 

— 

Amelia sat in the back of Alex’s garage, eyes narrowed on his telemetry screens. 

Again, their second driver had lacked pace in qualifying. Lacked power. Just… lacked. It wasn’t on Alex. She’d studied his driving style, his methodology. It should all line up.

It just didn’t.

She glanced down at her phone, blinked, and then felt her breath leave her lungs in one large exhale. 

—

iMessage — 18:09pm

Fernando Alonso Amelia, querida, I wanted you to hear this from me first. Next year, in 2021… I’m coming back. I will be driving again, with Renault. It’s not public yet, so please keep it quiet for now. But I wanted you to know. You were one of the first people I thought of when the decision was made. We will catch up soon, yes?

Amelia Brown That is phone call worthy news, Nando!!! I am very excited for you and very thrilled that you will be in the paddock again. I will call you in six hours, when I’m back at my hotel?

Fernando Alonso I will be waiting. 😊 

— 

The roar of the track echoed through the Red Bull garage, underscored by the cool, clinical click of keyboards and the sharp buzz of pit wall chatter. Max was out on track, deep into his Q1 lap, and Amelia had been glued to the data streaming in from his car; brake bias shifts, throttle maps, tyre wear deltas. Her fingers tapped quickly over her keyboard, cross-checking his live feedback with the simulator baselines.

She was in the zone. 

“Camera three on us,” someone murmured, capturing her attention.

The broadcast screen mounted on the back wall flickered. A sweeping overhead of the Red Bull garage, then a closer angle. The camera panned, through the tyre racks, past the control station, and landed squarely on her.

Amelia blinked up at it. Caught mid-thought, she tilted her head.

Then, casually, she raised one hand and gave the camera the flattest, driest wave imaginable.

On-screen, the title graphic appeared a beat later:

Amelia Brown Red Bull Racing | Engineering Intern

She frowned. It was right, she supposed. A good, clean title. A great indication of her role within the team. But it was missing something.

She leaned to the side, grabbed a spare scrap of printer paper from the adjacent workbench, and calmly reached for the thick black marker taped to the edge of her laptop. With precise strokes, she scrawled her correction.

She waited, glanced up to make sure the camera was still lingering, and held the sign beside her face. 

And Lando Norris’ girlfriend.

A few of the mechanics around her tried (and failed) to stifle their laughter. One of the Sky commentators cracked up live on air.

“And there you have it! Breaking news from the Red Bull garage, Amelia Brown making it very clear where her loyalties lie outside of work hours!”

Amelia dropped the sign flat beside her laptop, unbothered, and turned back to her screen.

Max’s lap time lit up purple in sector two.

She smiled. 

Perfect.

—

It was hours later, once the garage had settled and the media buzz had quieted and she was back at the hotel when Amelia felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

iMessage — 19:12pm

Lando Norris oh, you’re my girlfriend are you? hmm?

She blinked down at the screen, heat crawling up the back of her neck. Then her phone buzzed again.

Lando Norris the whole world knows now. hard launch executed flawlessly. bravo baby x

She didn’t reply right away. When he knocked on her hotel room door ten minutes, she just opened it and raised an eyebrow at him.“I figured I should make it official,” she said, deadpan. “Didn’t want to misrepresent the situation.”

Lando just looked at her, eyes warm and bright and so full of something she couldn’t quite name. Fondness, maybe. Or something deeper. “Oh, you didn’t want to misrepresent the situation,” he repeated, grinning as he stepped inside. “So you wrote it on a piece of paper. During a Grand Prix. In front of, like, two million viewers.”

Amelia shrugged, totally unbothered. “Am I not? Your girlfriend?” She said it casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because to her, it was.

Lando’s grin faltered for half a second, just long enough to turn into something softer. “Yeah, baby,” he said, voice quiet now. “Yeah, you are.”

He stepped closer, hands gentle on her waist, thumbs brushing against the hem of her shirt. Her breath caught as he leaned in. And then he kissed her. Softly, but sure. 

When they pulled apart, Amelia blinked at him once. “Okay,” she said.

Lando laughed. “Just ‘okay’?”

“I liked it,” she clarified, and he kissed her again just to prove a point. 

—

It was late. 

Amelia lay curled against Lando, her fingers lightly tracing across his chest without thinking. Her body was relaxed, comfortable, but her brain; well, it never quite turned off.

“You know you talk in your sleep, right?” Lando said, voice low and full of amusement. His fingers brushed slowly up and down her spine.

Amelia stilled. “I do not.”

“You do,” he said, clearly holding back laughter now. “I was up for like an hour just listening to you mutter about downforce deltas and fuel corrections. Very informative.”

She groaned and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. “No.”

“Yes,” he said, grinning now, clearly delighted. “You said the words ‘wing correction’ at least five times. Very passionate. Also, I think you told someone named Dave that they had the reaction time of a sloth.”

“Ugh.” Her voice was muffled against his skin. “You’re not allowed to tell anyone that.”

“No?” he teased, nudging her cheek with his nose. “Not even Christian?”

She lifted her head, eyes narrow. “Especially not Christian. He already thinks I’m a data risk”

Lando grinned. “So what you’re saying is, if I ever want to sabotage Red Bull, I just have to record your sleep talking, hm?”

Amelia glared at him. “If you do that, I’ll start memorising fake data just to confuse you.”

“Ooooh, now I’m tempted.” He teased. 

“Lando.” She sighed. 

“Okay, okay,” he said, hands up in mock surrender, still grinning. “Your sleep secrets are safe with me.”

“Good.” She relaxed again, cheek settling over his heart. “Because if you repeat any of it, I’ll probably lose my job, and then I’d have to become your trophy wife.”

He was silent. 

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Don’t even think about it. I’d go insane if I wasn’t using my brain every day, Lando. I’d end up snapping and murdering you or something equally as egregious.” She told him seriously. 

Lando leaned down and kissed the top of her head, still smiling as he tucked her closer. “You’re kind of terrifying, you know that?”

She hummed, clearly pleased. “Thank you.”

And for a while, they just laid there, wrapped up in each other and the dim light of the room. Safe. Soft. Close.

— 

WhatsApp Groupchat — 2020 F1 Grid

George R. You lucky bastard @Lando

Sebastian V. What did I miss?

George R. Lando’s missus hard-launched him on live TV 💀💀

Carlos S. What happened? I was in the garage, didn’t see anything.

Charles L. Same. Someone explain please.

George R. Okay so they cut to the Red Bull garage during Max’s Q1 lap Amelia’s just sat there, all focused and official, watching data Then the little graphics bar pops up with “Amelia Brown, Engineering Intern” And she casually holds up a piece of paper that says “And Lando Norris’ Girlfriend” ON LIVE BROADCAST

Lando N. 🤦‍♂️

Pierre G. ICONIC behaviour

Alex A. She really did that?? I love her. No notes.

Sebastian V. Power move of the season. Respect.

Daniel R. Bro, you got HARD launched Like, season finale confession levels of launched

Lando N. She said it was “efficient and contextually appropriate” 💀

George R. That is PEAK Amelia. No fluff. Just facts.

Charles L. Also your face in the media pen when they showed you the clip?? You looked like you’d been hit with a tyre warmer 😂

Lando N. Fuck off

Kimi R. I’m very impressed. No bullshit. Good.

Esteban O. Does this mean she’s officially invited to WAG poker night?

Daniel R. Already added her to the spreadsheet, mate.

George R. @Lando congrats. Try not to fumble it.

Lando N. Yeah yeah. I’ll try my best 🙃

Pierre G. We’ll all be watching. Closely.

Lando N. Was that a threat?

Lewis H. Yes.

Max V. Yes.

— 

Amelia was perched on her usual stool in the strategy room at HQ, reviewing data traces on her laptop when Max walked in, a towel slung around his neck, hair still damp with sweat from his training session.

He didn’t say anything right away. Just dropped onto the stool next to her.

She glanced up from her screen, then tilted it toward him. “Telemetry looks solid.”

He grunted in agreement. “I felt it. The rear’s better.”

They sat in companionable silence for a minute. Amelia adjusted a graph. Max cracked his knuckles.

Then, casually, like it was just a passing thought, he said, “So. You and Lando.”

Amelia blinked at him. “Yes?”

Max didn’t look at her. Just kept his eyes on the floor, like he was commenting on tyre wear. “If he does something stupid,” he said, tone flat, “I’ll put him in the wall.”

There was a beat. Then two.

“…Max,” Amelia said slowly, “are you threatening my boyfriend?”

“Not a threat,” Max replied calmly. “It’s just a fact.”

She huffed. “You’re not putting anyone in the wall.”

“I’d make it look like a racing incident.”

She laughed then, quiet but real. “That’s the most Dutch thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

Max shrugged. “You’re important to the team.”

She tilted her head. “And?”

He finally looked over at her, eyes a little softer than usual. “And to me.”

Amelia blinked again. That part she hadn’t expected.

“You’re good at this,” he added, gesturing to the screen. “But you’re also a good person. Not many people get both right. If Lando hurts you, I won’t forgive him.”

It was blunt. Sincere. Very Max.

She didn’t say thank you. He’d hate that. So instead, she nudged his arm with her elbow. “He won’t,” she said simply. “I trust him.”

Max nodded. “Good.”

NEXT CHAPTER

[prettygiri222]

okay but imagine eren seen a video of his baby momma at the club singin sexy redd’s “ FUCK MY BABYDADDY ” 😭😭 he just brings their son or daughter to reader’s mom and goes back to reader’s house and tears them TF upppp.

i can just hear him saying “ fuck yo baby who?? oh aight. ”

I had to add rapper!Eren to this cause it's something I always wanted to write😋

Eren x Black Fem Reader, PLOT + SMUT

rapper Eren Yeager's longtime girlfriend of six years broke up with him after having his first child, Duke Yeager. Eren shared a post on instagram confirming their breakup but stated that the both of them remain in Duke’s life as co-parents. the reason why was unreleased so fans speculated that Eren must’ve cheated because why else would you willingly break up with the famous rapper. his management released a statement saying it was due to conflicting schedules but it was seen as damage control so no one believed it.

during the six years of the relationship, his management managed to keep your face out of the media. but with the way Eren was constantly posting snippets of you, fans soon discovered who you were after matching physical features, traits and location that were found on his story with the ones present on your small instagram.

you two quickly became the it couple, how the girl from nowhere pulled a famous rapper gave fans hope because they saw them reflected in you. a woman who didn’t have to undergo multiple surgeries to pull the industry's finest. but after the breakup, that image fell.

his management did their best to keep things under wraps to keep the media from tormenting you but it didn’t work. when you posted a picture of yourself postpartum your dms filled with hateful comments wondering why Eren had gotten with you in the first place. you knew it was just jealous fangirls but it still got to you, especially since you weren’t all that confident in your new body and still recovering from your pregnancy. your accounts went silent shortly after.

although the breakup was mutual, the reason why was deeper than scheduling conflicts. you needed someone who was able to be there physically, emotionally and mentally. it was hard for Eren to provide that due to his career path, always travelling the world with a packed schedule. you guys did your best to make it work but after Duke came into the world you just couldn’t handle it anymore. 

Eren was a decent baby daddy and you guys co-parented well. you had full custody of him but when Eren was in town and would have time off you would send Duke over to him. Duke loved his daddy, always wanting to watch his concerts and interviews on the TV when he wasn’t there or free to facetime. Eren always made sure to send double what was asked for in child support to make sure you took care of yourself as well as his son.

that’s why when you reposted your friend’s story of you in the club all hell broke loose. people took it as a diss to your baby daddy, which it was, but not in the way they thought.

earlier that week you had dropped Duke off at Eren’s mansion. he had just flown back in from his world tour and finally had a few weeks off. despite being exhausted he called you up and asked if you could bring Duke over, wanting to spend as much time with his son as possible during his break. he sent over an uber black to pick the two of you up.

when Eren met you two at the door, Duke jumped into his arms smiling and giggling. it’s been a while since he’s seen his daddy in person. the sight made you awe. Eren turned to you and asked if you wanted to stay over so he could spend time with the two most important people in his life but sadly you declined. you didn’t want to interrupt their father and son bonding time.

Duke was almost a clone of Eren, he had his sharp green eyes, german nose and face shape. the only hints of you in him were his full lips, darker skin and coils. Duke was your little bundle of joy but he could be a handful at times. during the few times those two got to spend together Eren spoiled him rotten, whatever he wanted he got and it showed. whenever you told him no he would throw a tantrum saying how he wanted his daddy. you knew you were a good mother but hearing him say that when you were the one who took care of him every day hurt.

---

it was a friday night and Eren was at his crib chilling with Duke. he had his phone on do now disturb so his time with his family wouldn’t be interrupted. it was a shame you weren’t here to spend time with them. after having pizza, soda and ice cream for dinner the boys passed out on the couch after staying up past midnight watching movies. 

his peace was soon interrupted by the constant buzz of his phone. it roused him from his sleep but Duke slept through it. after the third ring, he finally answered the phone. he was pissed that his manager was calling him knowing it was his time off but he figured it must be important for them to use emergency bypass to call.

“what’s going on?” his voice gruff from his slumber and irritation. he turned on his phone to see it flooded with notifications from instagram, snapchat, tiktok, twitter, messages, missed calls from his friends and one from his mom and his heart dropped to his stomach. he hadn't dropped anything new recently so he knew whatever was happening had to be bad.

“well… it’s about your baby mama… she uh…” his manager was at a loss for words. he didn't know the words to describe the situation to make it not seem as bad as the media was already making it out to be. he knew Eren would be pissed when he found out what happened and they didn't want to be on the end of it. 

Eren was extremely protective of his family and friends. when he saw the hate you were receiving after you posted a picture of yourself postpartum he took to twitter immediately. he did not play when it came to you, together or not together. you were the mother of his child and you needed your respect. so he was wondering why you were playing in his face like this.

“well what is it?” he snapped, already losing his patience. “is she ok? is she hurt?” he shot upright from his resting position on the couch. he opened up the group chat between him, Armin, Connie, Onyankopon and Jean first. all that was sent was a blurry video followed by a bunch of skull and grave emojis.

he opened the video and immediately recognized the faces of a few of the girls in it as a few of your friends, Sasha, Mikasa and Historia at a club. Sasha, Connie’s model girlfriend was the one to record them singing along to a sexyy red song. he wondered what the video had to do with him until it panned to you. you stood out with your brightly dyed red hair styled in a what he recognized as a wash-and-go.

“fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy!” you were shouting the lyrics a little bit too passionately. you had your middle fingers stuck up to the camera showing off your glittery red acrylic nails. you were clearly wasted, drunk off of whatever drinks Sasha managed to shove down your throat.

“yes bitch!” your friends shouted as you turned around to shake your ass sticking out your tongue. you were wearing a ripped mesh dress. one of your friends reached out to pull down the back of your dress to prevent your ass from showing but the dress was already leaving very little to the imagination. the pregnancy did your body good, you were a bit on the skinny side before but now your hips had filled out, your ass and boobs swole and your skin finally cleared up. you were glowing.

“I’m a fine ass bitch, I ain’t in the in the house sad!” you were feeling yourself. it felt nice to get out of the house and away from Duke no matter how much you loved him. having to take care of a baby by yourself was tiring, no matter how much Eren supported you from afar you needed him there with you.

your friends were hyping you up and your mind grew hazy from both the alcohol and adrenaline. you were far too gone to realize what you said when you yelled “fuck Eren!” instead of the actual lyrics. the camera quickly panned to the floor before the video stopped.

Eren had to replay the video countless times to process what he had seen and heard. but he couldn’t believe it was you. never in the eight years he’s known you have you ever picked up the phone to send a dig at him through social media. no matter how tough the going got, it’s what he respected about you. you always wanted to talk problems through and try to make it work. Eren clenched his fist looking at you now.

Eren knows how baby mamas like you are seen and treated in the industry. he’s seen how they're constantly bashed and embarrassed by the fathers of their children and the media. Eren never wanted that for you, he wanted to give you a ring before he gave you a baby but accidents happen and here you both were. instead of calling him or stopping by to talk you wanted to show out for the fans and diss him. it was stupid of you, he knew you were better than this.

“so it’s “fuck Eren” is that right,” Eren laughed to himself throwing his head back on the couch. sure he couldn’t be there for you and Duke all the time like he wanted but at least he tried. he was a very busy man. but he did what he had to to make sure his mother, Duke and you could have a nice and cozy life. where Duke didn’t have to worry about if he was going to eat dinner that night. “bet.”

“sorry little man but I have to go get your mommy. you’re going to go to stay with your grandma tonight, ok?” he cooed to Duke, waking him up. Duke slowly woke up and was trying to rub the sleep out of his eye. Eren loved his son very much he was the reason he kept this stressful life up. 

he enjoyed making music and performing but not during the days when he slept in the studio trying to find the perfect lyrics and beat or days where he hardly slept because he had to stay on his feet. it was a fast life and if he couldn’t keep up it would all come crashing down. and for you to make a dig at that knowing how he felt was fucked.

“Eren Yeager!” his manager shouted through the phone overhearing the whole thing. he needed Eren to keep a calm head and not do anything rash tonight. he didn’t need him sparking more outrage in the media or doing something that could potentially ruin the relationship you two had. “what are you going to do?”

“what else, I’m going to go fuck my baby mama,” before his manager could get another word out he hung up the phone. 

“daddy said a bad word!”

“...don’t tell your mom and I’ll bring you to the studio with me.”

---

you wobbled into your apartment with a sheepish grin. it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulder tonight. it’s been a while since you went to the club and got so drunk that the world became a blur. you were slowly regaining memories of what happened that night and you couldn’t help but cringe knowing you would regret some of them in the morning. your phone died on your way home after you reposted Sasha’s story so you were oblivious to the buzz you had created.

when you went to unlock your door you found out that it was already open. you raised your brow but you brushed it off thinking you must’ve forgotten to lock it in your rush to leave the house. you knew the security for your building was tight, it was the main thing you were looking for when you were buying your apartment. it was a necessity since Duke was the son of a successful rapper. 

when you and Eren had split you bought yourself a nice little two-bedroom apartment deep in the city. Eren offered to pay for it but you immediately declined, you didn’t want anything else of yours to get attached to him. during your relationship you saved up a lot of money since Eren had always offered to buy you whatever you wanted and spoiled you rotten just like he was doing with Duke. he fueled your shopping addiction only wanting his girlfriend to have the best of the best.

you had a little side hustle as an occasional hairstylist and nail artist for your friends and family with the occasional new client. Eren told you time and time again you didn’t need to work and that he would take care of everything. but you liked having your own source of income it made you feel independent plus you enjoyed your job.

being able to close on your dream apartment was a dream come true and it left you feeling satisfied. you loved how everything was within walking distance, there was a daycare down the street along with an elementary school for when Duke got older. there was a grocery store right around the corner with a few outlets and public transit ran just outside the building, it was perfect for a single mother like you. 

“thought we were doing good with this co-parenting shit mama?” the second you opened the door you were greeted by a voice you knew better than your own. goosebumps covered your arms, ‘why is he here’ you thought.

“Eren?” you called out into the dark apartment. you felt the wall closest to the door for the switch and turned the light on. and there he was, Eren, your famous baby daddy. he turned his head to look at you from where he was seated on the couch. his eyes were extremely low, watching your every move. “are you ok? where's Duke?”

“with your mom,” Eren was having such a pleasant high, he felt so relaxed and calm in the dark room. he didn’t have the TV on and was just staring at the black screen. but the second the room lit up and you walked through the door with that tiny see-through dress on it dispersed. he narrowed his eyes down at you and you could tell you had just blown his high. his anger simmering underneath his calm demeanour. 

“how’d you even get in?” you never gave Eren the key to your apartment. having already been split and you always dropped Duke off at his place there was no reason for him to have one.

“front desk gave me a key after I flashed a couple of stacks,” he replied nonchalantly, like it wasn’t a crime on both parts. you rolled your eyes, this was how Eren fixed all his problems, with money. you get that when he was growing up it was something he didn’t have but now that he had it was like all he knew how to do was throw it at people to make his problems disappear.

“well if Duke isn’t here then there’s no reason for you to be,” you don’t know what you did to warrant this visit but you didn’t want to be in his presence any longer. you liked to keep your contact with Eren as minimal as possible. plus you didn’t have the energy to deal with him tonight, you were tired. hoping he would get the hint it was time to leave you walked away and headed towards your bedroom, “please see yourself out. we can talk another day.”

“nah, 'cause it’s “fuck Eren” right?” he got up from the couch and followed you down the hall and into your room. the wooden floor creaking under his weight. you didn’t have to turn around to know he was towering over you, you could feel him breathing down your neck. you tried to move away from him but he gripped your waist with a firm grip underneath and pulled you against him. “you must’ve gone crazy going so long with my dick huh? that must be it, acting like you lost your damn mind.”

“Eren!” you pulled away to look back at him in shock. “what are you even talking about?”

“don’t play dumb with me mama, your ass is all over the shade room talking about “fuck my baby daddy” ” he took his phone out of his pocket to show you their newest post. it was a screenshot of a video but it was clearly you, it was the same outfit and hairstyle you had on right now. you swiped the image on his phone in disbelief and the video played, “fuck Eren! fuck my baby daddy! fuck my baby daddy!”

“oh my gosh! Eren, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I was drunk and got carried away,” you looked up at him from the phone. you could tell he was pissed, his eyes darkened after hearing what you said in the video for the hundredth time. you were horrified, you didn’t mean to air out your personal problems and make Eren seem like a bad father. you knew how the public blew things out of proportion.

“they say drunk words are sober thoughts,” Eren stated, shrugging his shoulders. “I know Duke be stressing you out ma, let me fix it,” he stared down at you with a little smirk. he licked his lips, obviously checking you out. it's been a while since he's seen your body exposed, you always show up to drop Duke off in oversized sweaters and shirts. just looking at you like this made his dick hard, “plus you owe me an apology.”

that’s how you found yourself face down ass up in your bedroom with the man you’d never thought would step foot in your new apartment. Eren was behind you standing at the edge of the bed, his black and grey nike tech sweater was thrown somewhere in your room leaving him in a white wife beater and his golden cuban link chain. his grey sweats were down so that just his dick was out.

“mm fuck Eren! please,” you cried out. no matter how deeply you arched or angled your hips you couldn’t get him to reach where you needed him the most. he knew that but he loved watching you struggle and the way your brown cheeks jiggled after coming into contact with his pelvis. you were a sight to see, one that he deeply missed.

“you can do better than that mama,” he raised his pierced brow watching you. Eren stood completely still behind you, you had your face buried in the sheets as you attempted to throw it back on him. you were still dressed in your mesh dress but he ripped your thong off. “I saw you in that video. you were shaking that shit so c’mon, fuck me back ma.”

your makeup was staining your sheets but you could care less right now. the feeling of Eren stretching out your practically virginal walls was dumbfounding. he didn’t bother to stretch you out believing that your body was already moulded to his shape. but it’s been about two years since you last had sex. your tight walls were struggling to accommodate his humongous size.

“ ’m trying,” the lack of stimulation on your sweet spots had you in tears. the stretch was pleasurable but it wasn’t enough, paired with the shallow thrusts. you so desperately craved more so you reached in between your legs to play with your clit. Eren groaned at the sight of you touching yourself, not to mention you began to clench around him. 

“damn ma, now that’s what I’m talking about,” Eren gave your ass a harsh slap. you let out a little whine as you lost your rhythm because of it. but you soon found it again. your wetness was soaking his dick and you were basically twerking on his dick. Eren loved every second of it. 

he took one of your ass cheeks and pulled it to the side with his tattooed hand, he watched himself go in and out of your brown folds. feeling the unsteady approach of his orgasm watching as you struggled to fuck yourself on him he decided to finally grant you mercy. he languidly began to thrust into you. “go ahead and nut on this dick mama.”

 “o-okay” you stuttered out. you struggled to concentrate on stimulating your sensitive clit while bouncing back to meet Eren’s lazy thrusts. your fingers were covered in your own wetness while you rubbed little circles on your bud. each loop paired with the tip of his dick pressing against that spongy spot inside you brought you ever closer to your climax. “ ‘m so close!”

“let it out for me baby,” the pace became erratic, you guys’ release at its peak. sometimes his dick collided straight into your soft spot and sometimes it completely missed. but the feeling of him pummeling in and out of you had you convulsing around his dick. “keep squeezing around me like that and I'll put another baby in you, fuck.”

you let out broken whines as you struggled to continuously stimulate your bud. you were soaking wet that your fingers slipped around. “‘ren! ren!” you chanted, reaching out toward him with your slick-covered hand. Eren grabbed it and put it in his mouth. groaning deeply as he licked and sucked on your coated digits.

“don’t worry mama, I got you. let it out for me,” Eren leaned over your arched form and whispered in your ear. his husky sending shivers down your spine as he talked you through it. you listened to him feeling the wave of pleasure overwhelm you, the sensation in your stomach bursting.

“f-fuck, fuck!”

“shit,” when he felt himself about to burst he pulled out of your pussy's compelling grasp. he watched the lewd scene in front of him and used it to jerk off. he groaned out stroking his soaking dick. your pussy hole remained gaping after he pulled out and your liquids were spilling on your sheets. after a few strokes, he released all over your back onto your mesh dress staining it.

you plopped down onto your empty bed exhausted. the room filled with the sound of laboured breathing as you guys tried to catch your breath. the sound of Eren shuffling around could be heard soon after. your heart ached at the thought of him leaving you so soon but you closed your eyes, ‘it’s for the better’ you thought. you wanted a few moments of rest before you went to wash up.

but Eren wasn’t finished yet, he was shedding the remaining articles of his clothing leaving him naked. your eyes opened feeling the bed dip under the extra weight. before you could protest, Eren had already climbed on top of you, grabbing your legs and having them pushed over your head, “we’re not finished yet.”

this time Eren took the lead, he had ripped off your dress leaving you completely naked and exposed to his eyes. he had you folded over like a pretzel leaving you open for him. your legs were bent so far over your head you could see the top of your pussy and watch as Eren thrusted in and out of your overstimulated hole from above. the pleasure made you want to slither away but Eren’s strong hold kept you still.

“E-eren!” you were losing your mind from the stimulation. “too much! it’s too much!” you cried out. you reached out to push against his rock-hard abdomen. you didn’t want him to stop, not when you were so close to your second orgasm of the night but it was too much. he was being so rough with you. you didn’t think you had it in you after motherhood to be manhandled like this.

“nah, you can take it. you’re a big girl now, dissing me at the club with your friends. be glad I’m even fucking you since I’m such a “bad baby daddy.” Eren mocked you from above. he didn’t even flinch as you tried to push him away. he smiled down at you watching how easily you got fucked out. moans were no longer coming out your mouth, more like strangled sobs and whines that were being forced out after each deep thrust of his. the head of his dick battering your insides and abusing your soft spot left you tremoring underneath him.

“imsorryimsorry,” you babbled out. your mascara and eyeliner were running down your cheeks and your lipstick was smothered but you couldn’t look any prettier to Eren. he enjoyed watching as your tits bounce around. he brought his forest green eyes back up to you watching as you bit your quivering lip.

“how’d that song go again?” Eren sarcastically asked. with the number of times he replayed that video he had the lyrics, beat and rhythm all memorized. “something like this right?” pap! pap! pap! Eren changed the rhythm of his thrusts, the sound of his balls clapping against your ass and the squelching sounds of your pussy mimicked the bow bow bow of the song. he angled each thrust to deliver a particularly harsh hit to your g-spot.

without warning an intense feeling of pleasure erupted in your stomach. “imcuming!” you cried out. you could feel a liquid flow out from your pussy, completely drenching Eren’s dick. he quickly pulled out to watch you squirt, a sight he immensely missed. the translucent liquid gushed out of your hole soaking the sheets as well.

“you said fuck your baby who?” Eren smiled down at your fucked out face. you couldn’t even answer him with the overwhelming pleasure rendering all of your senses useless. your head was thrown back and your face furrowed, coming down from the high of your intense orgasm. “oh aight.”

I think I got a bit carried away🤭